


Bad Code

by redseeker



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Brainwashing, Kink Meme, M/M, Master/Slave, Oral Sex, Sexual Slavery, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-12
Updated: 2012-06-30
Packaged: 2017-11-03 13:22:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 37,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/381785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redseeker/pseuds/redseeker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Starscream comes back from death claiming to be Megatron's personal pleasure-drone. Kink-meme fill for 'reprogrammed'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Starscream.” Megatron looked past Blitzwing and Lugnut, at the familiar, winged figure emerging from the shadows of the cave's entrance. “...You're alive.”

He thought he had taken the jet offline himself.

Instead of the weak retort Megatron expected, Starscream stepped into the light and then fluidly sank to his knees. He bowed low, his wings down, the ultimate display of deference. After a moment of stunned silence, Megatron stepped forward. Starscream looked up.

“What's the matter, my lord? You look like you've seen a ghost.”

Still he made no move to attack. Megatron was on edge. “...Maybe I have.”

Starscream only looked at him questioningly. He thought he saw Starscream's wingtips tremble ever so slightly.

It was rare that Megatron didn't know how to act. He had expected an attack, and had prepared himself for such. His logic centre told him he should finish Starscream off before he could carry out whatever foolish scheme he had in mind. His spark, however, told him to wait. He was curious.

“Starscream, why are you here? After all, we didn't part on what you could call amicable terms.”

“For which I apologise, sir. I'm here only because it is my job to serve you.”

Megatron was listening for the slimy undertone that would indicate Starscream was lying, but he was stunned to find it wasn't there. He folded his arms and watched Starscream for several long moments.

“...Lugnut, Blitzwing. Leave us.”

“But, Master!”

“Silence.” His more loyal Decepticons only had his interests in mind, of course, but he didn't want them there. If Starscream did turn, he was more than capable of putting the nuisance of a mech down.

Chastised, Lugnut lumbered from the cavern with a cackling Blitzwing in tow. Megatron stood with hands behind his back, his frame drawn up, until he was sure they were far out of auditory sensor range. To his surprise, Starscream remained on his knees the whole time, his head respectfully bowed. His only movement was the occasional twitch of a wing.

Megatron narrowed his optics, and then took a step back. He was reluctant to turn his back on Starscream, but he did so in order to walk to his throne. Once seated, he observed the jet more.

“...Come here.”

Starscream stood immediately to attention and strode over. His heels clicked loudly on the polished stone floor. He spared Sumdac the briefest of looks, and then ignored him. In truth Megatron had forgotten he was there, but the old man appeared to be dozing anyway. Starscream stood for a moment before Megatron's throne before sinking into a kneeling bow again.

Megatron grimaced. “Get up. That doesn't suit you.”

Starscream obeyed. “Megatron...?”

“Lord Megatron,” Megatron tried.

“Lord Megatron,” Starscream said, and Megatron swore his engine stalled.

Megatron tilted his head. “Do I take it you've had a change of spark? Or did that blow reboot your system somehow?”

“I'm sure I don't know what you mean... “ Starscream gave his head a brief shake. “I do feel... my processor feels clearer. Perhaps you helped to clear out some bad code? For which I thank you, of course...”

It was strange. He still sounded like Starscream, but not... “Perhaps.” He leaned his elbows on the arms of his throne and steepled his fingers before his chest. “So you think that I will simply welcome you back into my confidence with open arms, is that it?”

“Your confidence is not necessary, sir. I only wish to serve you.” Megatron saw Starscream's dark crimson optics flick over his frame for a moment. “Would you like me to serve you now, or should I wait in your chambers?”

Megatron spluttered. “I beg your pardon?”

Starscream seemed puzzled. “My primary function is to serve you, my lord. In _every_ capacity. I'm yours to use as you see fit.”

Megatron's optic ridges shot up. He considered the jet's words. It couldn't be he was misinterpreting him, could it?

Deciding to test it, he said, “Now will be fine.”

Starscream nodded and moved forward. He moved fluidly, and Megatron noticed for the first time in a long time the subtle curving lines of his waist, hips, thighs. Starscream seemed hesitant, as though requiring further direction. However, he didn't ask for it. Megatron leaned back as the seeker paused before his throne and sank to one knee between Megatron's thighs. Starscream shuttered his optics and let out a soft sigh as he leaned forward. He pressed a line of light kisses to the top of one of Megatron's thighs, and Megatron, stunned, widened his legs to allow the jet access to the more sensitive inner panels.

Megatron didn't want to speak; he felt as if to disturb Starscream now would break him out of whatever state of malfunction he must be in. So, he kept silent, but he did stretch to placing one hand on the back of Starscream's helm. Instead of swatting him away or coming to his senses, Starscream only purred. He moved slowly up Megatron's thigh, at first only kissing, then flicking his slim, pointed glossa out to lick at the warm plating. When he reached the seam between Megatron's thigh and his pelvic armour, Starscream nuzzled the joint like a cat.

Wonderful, Megatron thought bitterly. His once-upon-a-time competent lieutenant had been reduced to a simpering pleasure bot.

Starscream pushed his glossa into the seam, and Megatron hissed. His spike cover retracted without his conscious command, and his spike pressurised to its full size. Starscream made an eager little sound and suddenly his mouth was fastened on the head of Megatron's spike, hot and suckling and eager. Megatron gasped and gripped the arms of his throne.

“ _Starscream_...”

“Mm?” Starscream abruptly lifted his head, and Megatron tried stifled a growl at the loss of sensation. His spike stood stiff and large, aching.

“...Nothing.” His vocals were pained. “Continue...”

“Sir.”

As Starscream once more took Megatron's spike into his mouth, this time Megatron helped him along by pressing down on the back of his helm. Starscream made a small, murmuring sound, and Megatron found he could push Starscream down until the entirety of his spike was engulfed in the exquisite heat of the seeker's mouth and throat. He was still in a state of disbelief; was this really his traitorous second in command? Surely it was just a clone with a defect processor that its creator had managed to lose. But somewhere in his spark he knew this wasn't the case. 

“Starscream...” His thumb rubbed slowly over the back of Starscream's helm as the jet worked. He seemed as talented with his mouth as any pleasure-drone, and adeptly swallowed the bigger mech's spike, suckling it as if it were an energon goodie. Megatron shuddered and closed his optics. It was too good, too sweet, and too unreal. He rolled his hips and thrust up into Starscream's mouth, and Starscream just continued to purr and suck and swallow around him.

Megatron overloaded all too soon. He grunted as he came, and his fingers tightened against Starscream's helm. He held the seeker's head down and thrust his spike in to the hilt, and as he started to come down he became dimly aware of the hum of Starscream's vents working to stop him from overheating. He let Starscream struggle for a couple moment moments longer. He watched him through hazy optics - the jet's cheeks were tinted and hot, his lips stretched tight around Megatron's thick shaft. His wings were still trembling, and heat was rolling off his plating in tangible waves. Megatron reached out and pinched the tip of one wing. One more thing he'd wanted to do for a long time. Starscream made a soft sound of discomfort and Megatron released his hold on the seeker's helm. Starscream lifted his head and let Megatron's spike slip wetly from his lips. He coughed, and Megatron noticed that some coolant had leaked a little from the channels beneath his optics. 

Starscream sat back on his thrusters and gulped a few deep intakes of cool air. He licked his lips and then looked up at Megatron. He had swallowed every drop of Megatron's transfluid.

Megatron held Starscream's jaw and opened his mouth with his thumb to check. Starscream shuttered his optics and opened wide obligingly.

“Unbelievable...”

Starscream tried to speak and Megatron released his jaw. “Just doing my duty, my lord,” Starscream said. His vocals were as silky as ever, but so far there was no knife in Megatron's back.

Megatron stood up. Starscream tried to move backward out of his way, but Megatron grasped one of his wings and pulled. “On your feet.”

Starscream rose and stood unsteadily to attention. Megatron tilted Starscream's chin up with a finger, and then spent several kliks inspecting the jet. Starscream's frame was giving off heat like a beacon, and Megatron could sense the desire in him. He stood still and obedient as Megatron circled him slowly, touching here and there – a pinch to a wing edge, a stroke to his waist and the small of his back, a light slap to his aft. Starscream's only reaction was a soft, needy sound, and to shift his stance so that his feet were further apart.

“It seems I'm faced with a dilemma, Starscream,” Megatron said. He couldn't take his optics off Starscream, who stood, taut as a wire, before him. Starscream made optic contact and raised one optic ridge, and for a moment looked just like his old self.

“Sir?”

“Mm.” He trailed a fingertip up the lower edge of one of Starscream's wings. “Should I believe your word and keep you around? Or do I stay true to my logic circuits and simply offline you here and now, and save myself the potential for further trouble with you later on?”

Starscream shuddered. “There's no need to offline me. I'll do most things, my lord, but that might be pushing it.”

Megatron actually chuckled. Somehow it was still Starscream, only... different. Some string of bad code.

“Let's test your newfound loyalty, shall we?” He grabbed the top of a wing with one hand, Starscream's waist with the other, and pulled him to his body. Starscream came with him and gasped softly. Megatron kissed him, and Starscream yielded for a moment. Then he seemed to sense a tension in the older mech, and he returned the kiss with more aggression. Megatron purred. He pawed at the seeker's aft and pulled him around, then pushed him down onto the nearest available surface, which happened to be his throne. Starscream's hands were on him, and his mouth was hungry and eager. He kissed him deeply and then broke away. He sank to one knee before the throne and Starscream leaned down, curling his spinal strut and holding Megatron's face in his hands. Megatron's hands gripped Starscream's thighs and spread them. He expected a bite or a cannon blast, but instead he got a moan. His engines revved, and he bit at Starscream's lower lip. He must be in recharge, and dreaming.

Starscream didn't open up for him. He waited for Megatron to forcibly pull his panel open instead. Megatron snarled and pressed his fingers to the warm valve beneath, and rubbed over the rim firmly with his palm. He pressed and massaged in a slow, heavy rhythm, and drank in Starscream's pleased mewls. The seeker's arms were around his shoulders, his mouth latched onto Megatron's and kissing him fiercely. Megatron circled the very rim of Starscream's entrance with the pads of two fingers, and then finally pushed inside. Starscream gasped and Megatron thrust in deep. He spread his fingers, and then spent some time stroking and pressing at various sensors inside the seeker's tight, supple valve. Starscream moaned and kissed him with finesse. Megatron eased a third finger into the jet and knelt back. Starscream tried to come with him when he broke the kiss, but then sank back into the chair and laid his hands on the throne's arms, looking like a sulky, debauched prince. The irony of the sight was not lost on Megatron. 

He knelt and watched his fingers sliding in and out of Starscream's valve, and then spread his fingers again, his other hand flat on Starscream's abdomen.

“Beautiful...”

“Megatron...?”

He withdrew his fingers and grabbed Starscream's hips. He pulled the seeker forward on the throne so his aft was slightly over the edge, then hooked Starscream's knees over his arms, bringing his hips close to Starscream's. He lined his spike up and nudged the very tip past the slick rim of Starscream's valve. He met Starscream's optics, his own hard and watchful. This was the test.

He pulled Starscream close and surged his own hips forward. His spike slid into the seeker's tight valve up to the hilt, until his hips were flat against Starscream's. He put his hands on the throne's arms, keeping Starscream's legs hooked over his elbows, spreading the seeker wide and holding him like that. Starscream held onto Megatron's shoulders. He yelped when Megatron penetrated him, but now his optics were shuttered, and his face held a look of rapture. Megatron held himself still, knowing that if he moved now he would overload again already, and he wasn't sure if he'd be able to go again. He couldn't waste this opportunity. He studied Starscream's reactions, from the rise in temperature in the seeker's frame to the tiniest flick of a wing-tip, to the way the jet's valve seemed to clench around him, wet and hot and needy. He shuddered and hung his head, his own intakes coming more raggedly now.

After a length of time in which the only sounds were their raw intakes and the hum of their fans, Starscream gave his hips a subtle roll.

Megatron groaned in response and rocked into the movement without thinking. This shallow motion became a slow grind, and Megatron let out a long, sweet sigh as he circled his hips then ground in deep again. He looked down between them. Starscream's spike remained in its housing; Megatron thought this was odd, as the jet was obviously aroused. The amount of lubricants slicking his valve was testament to that. Megatron didn't give it too much thought. Instead he leaned back and focused his attention on Starscream's valve. He switched to shallow, slow thrusts, and watched as his spike first slid out of the newly stretched valve, and then was pushed back, deep inside. Starscream made small, soft noises and writhed upon the throne. Megatron kept his hands on the throne's arms and Starscream's legs hooked over his forearms, so the jet's thighs were splayed wide, his frame almost bent double. Gradually Megatron's thrusts became deeper, though he tried to keep them slow. He watched Starscream's frame, the attractive build that combined the seductive curves of a femme with the power of the strongest of Decepticon soldiers. He watched Starscream's face too, the nuances of expression, the colour that had crept onto his cheeks, the glisten of moisture on his lips. He was still, on some level, waiting for a sneer, a snarl, and a scathing quip. Or else a bite to the throat. Instead he got a stream of, albeit rather pushy, pleasured murmurings and slightly foul-mouthed endearments. 

Megatron's movements very gradually became harder, rougher, his thrusts longer and deeper. He felt his systems start to overheat as his hips snapped faster. Soon he was slamming into Starscream with enough force to make the seeker howl, which is exactly what Starscream did. He threw head back and clung onto Megatron's shoulders, his sharp claws digging in, screaming obscenities and panting like a cheap 'facing drone. Starscream's valve was still tight around Megatron, and the heat and pressure, combined with having Starscream like _this_ , all laid out and screaming for him, was quickly driving Megatron toward a second overload. He knew it would be more powerful than the first, and the thought of coming deep inside _Starscream_ was alone enough to push him over the edge. He snarled and bared his teeth. He moved one hand and held Starscream's leg under the knee joint and pushed the seeker's thigh out and back even more, allowing him to fuck him even more deeply for the last few jarring, brutal thrusts. Starscream whimpered and overloaded just before Megatron did. Megatron felt the ripple and clench of the jet's valve around him, and rammed his spike inside, grinding hard as he spilled a flood of transfluid deep into the seeker's internals.

He growled long and low, and paused for some heady, charged moments. His intakes rattled, and heat rolled off both of their armour, causing a shimmer in the air. He looked at Starscream.

The seeker was entirely undone. Gone was the cocky, backchatting pain in the aft he'd been forced to dispose of for treachery. In that mech's place was a sensual, debauched creature who wore Starscream's face and exquisite frame, but who, instead of fighting him, now sprawled beneath him, open and used, looking more like a whore than a soldier.

“Ohh...” Starscream moaned and gave his hips a slow buck. He turned his head to the side, exposing his neck cables, and kept his optics shuttered. He licked his lips. “Mmm. Was that... _satisfactory_ , my lord?” He opened his optics a slit and looked sidelong at Megatron, the hint of a smirk curving his lips again.

 _Perhaps you're still in there somewhere_ , Megatron thought.


	2. Chapter 2

Megatron dragged Starscream back to his quarters. Starscream didn't scream or kick or fight, but he did grumble. He held onto Megatron's wrist and tottered after him, unsteady on his thrusters after the treatment Megatron had just given him. If he was honest, Megatron himself wasn't sure his equilibrium was a hundred percent correct. He was still reeling from the bizarre change of heart Starscream had had, and nigglingly aware that this was not the “real” Air Commander. Still, he was real enough, and Megatron was damned if he was going to miss out on this opportunity.  
  
Megatron had set aside a portion of the maze-like caverns as his own private chambers, and had installed a sliding door at the entrance, complete with a lock. Starscream waited until the door was locked before pulling free of Megatron's hold.  
  
The tyrant wheeled on him, sure that this was the time of betrayal. Starscream laughed sharply and watched him with an asymmetrical grin. He took a couple of dancing steps backward, then turned on his heel and swayed his way deeper into the suite of caves.  
  
Megatron shutterblinked, then gave a deep, rumbling growl and followed.  
  
He found Starscream in his berth-room. The seeker was perched on the edge of the raised, padded platform Megatron used as a recharge berth – the best he could do using limited, primitive Earth materials –with his legs crossed and a coquettish, smug look on his face. Megatron leaned on the rough-hewn door-frame. He folded his arms and watched Starscream.  
  
“My lord...?” Starscream's vocals were oily as always, but now with a breathy undertone, perhaps the result of their earlier exertion. Or perhaps not. Starscream stretched back, leaning his weight on his hands and elegantly extending his chassis. His cockpit gleamed in the dim, violet light, and Megatron felt a coil of dark curiosity unfurl in his spark. He slowly crossed the room and stood before the seeker, looming over him.  
  
Starscream let his hands slide to the sides and lowered his back to the berth. He uncrossed his legs and drew them up, placing his heels on the edge of the berth and spreading his thighs. Megatron was almost disgusted at the seeker's vulgarity. He still put his hands on Starscream's knees and pushed his legs out a little wider, though. Starscream hummed happily and folded his arms behind his helm. “Sir?”  
  
“What do you want, Starscream?” Megatron wasn't sure what he hoped Starscream would answer.  
  
“To serve you,” Starscream said. Megatron was disconcertingly sure it wasn't that. “Of course.”  
  
“Are you a just pleasure drone, now...?” Megatron said. He pushed Starscream further up the berth and made room for himself to kneel between the jet's thighs. He settled himself on the berth and laced Starscream's legs around his hips. He looked down at his new and unexpected prize.  
  
“Do you want me to be?” Starscream smirked and wriggled, deliberately provocatively. He pushed himself up into a sitting position, face to face with Megatron, and purred, “I'm anything you want me to be.”  
  
Megatron growled and caught him in a kiss. He pawed at Starscream's small waist and crushed him against his chassis. A beat later he pushed Starscream back down onto the berth and started rubbing and prying at the seeker's cockpit.  
  
Starscream grabbed his wrists, and Megatron paused. He held Starscream's optics. Neither said anything. After a charged silence, Starscream relaxed his hands and slumped back. He tilted his head back and shuttered his optics. “Whatever Lord Megatron wants.”  
  
Megatron's lip curled. He ran his fingers firmly over the fine seams at the edges of Starscream's cockpit until he figured out how to slide it back. He felt Starscream tense, but ignored him. He wanted to see.  
  
Starscream's spark chamber was still empty. Megatron wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed.  
  
“Satisfied?” Megatron looked up to see Starscream watching him with dimmed crimson optics. The jet's expression was unreadable, but his tone was enough.  
  
“Isn't that your job?”  
  
“Exactly.” Starscream trailed his fingertips down his chest and dipped them into the empty cavity where once his soul pulsed brightly. He arched his back, artful and deliberate. Like a pro. Megatron pressed himself against the seeker's lithe body and kissed him hard. Starscream relaxed and twined his limbs around Megatron. Megatron slipped his spike into Starscream's still-uncovered valve and let out a sigh. Starscream was hot and soft around him, his frame pliant.  
  
Megatron went slower this time, taking the time to grind and rock, and enjoy every little sensation. Starscream made small sounds almost of surprise, and when Megatron stopped kissing him he latched onto the older mech's shoulder and bit and suckled. His hands slid up and down Megatron's back, and his nimble talons tweaked and teased at ridges and curves of his armour, mapping out every plate and every component.  
  
Megatron disentangled himself from Starscream's arms and knelt upright. He continued to fuck the seeker with a steady rhythm, tensing his lower abdomen and rocking his hips. He could watch Starscream better like this. He was transfixed with that empty chamber. Starscream, as if sensing this, ran his hands over his own frameand dipped his fingers into the chamber to rub and stroke over the sensors and surfaces within it.  
  
Megatron was almost repulsed by it, but it still drove him to fuck Starscream harder. He gripped one of Starscream's thighs, and grabbed a foot with his free hand. He pulled it up to inspect the thruster, and then pushed two fingers into the turbine. Starscream squeaked and jerked beneath him, and Megatron watched, pleased, as he overloaded.  
  
“Mm...” He slipped out of Starscream. “Turn over.”  
  
“W-what...?” Starscream was still pleasantly dazed from his overload. He stretched luxuriantly on the berth. “Mm... yeah... I mean, yes sir...” He managed to sit up and start to turn, and Megatron “helped” him by grabbing his hips and roughly manoeuvring him onto all fours. He pulled Starscream's knees apart, spread his aft, and thrust back into his valve. He stretched over the jet's back and grabbed the tops of his wings. He used these to pull Starscream back onto him, smoothly at first, but gradually getting faster. Starscream certainly seemed to appreciate the contact to his wings. Megatron had never really considered the wings' sensitivity before, all the times he had grabbed them and moulded them out of shape. Now, though, he could see the myth about a seeker's wings being another erogenous zone was true after all. Starscream yowled and clawed at the berth; he would have pressed his helm down but Megatron's hold on his wings forced him to arch prettily instead. Megatron growled, enjoying the show. He forced Starscream back onto his spike faster, plunging his length in deep with every jerking thrust.  
  
He let go of the wings and pressed the seeker down. He leaned one forearm on the back of Starscream's helm and pressed the jet's face to the berth, and with his other hand he held onto one wing. He continued to rut hard until he came, and when he did he bit at the edge of the wing hard enough to leave a decorative mark.  
  
He didn't pull out right away. Instead he slumped atop the seeker, pinning him down with his weight. His fans were overworked, and his frame ached sweetly. He idly pinched Starscream's thigh and aft. Starscream made a noise of protest and wriggled.  
  
Megatron wondered what he should do with Starscream now. He couldn't just leave him wandering around loose, and he _definitely_ couldn't stay in the same chamber Megatron used for recharge. He didn't trust Starscream that much, not even after this. He mused on where to keep his new pet until Starscream squirmed a bit too much, and Megatron grumbled and benevolently propped himself up on his arms. He slid his spike, still sensitive as it was, from Starscream's valve, and rubbed it over Starscream's aft, cleaning himself off and leaving a smear of lubricant and transfluid on the seeker's plating.  
  
“You making a mess of my armour?” Starscream said sleepily.  
  
“I'll clean you up later. Maybe.” Megatron liked the idea of leaving Starscream covered in, and leaking, his come for a while first.  
  
Ignoring his complaining joints, Megatron hauled himself off the berth and to his feet. He grabbed Starscream's ankle and pulled him to the berth's edge, and Starscream yelped and complained. Megatron swatted away Starscream's fussing and slung him onto his shoulder.  
  
“I'll see you to your new quarters.”  
  
“This is not dignified,” Starscream growled, squirming.  
  
Megatron grabbed the seeker's aft, so temptingly positioned, and squeezed hard. “Says the pleasure drone. Now mute it.”  
  
Starscream didn't stop struggling, but he did shut up. Megatron carried him out of his chambers and down the hall a way, into a seldom used, rather more derelict area of the mines. There was a small cave here, also fitted with a locking door, which they used for what few supplies they had. He unlocked the door and threw Starscream inside.  
  
The seeker tumbled gracelessly to the floor and pushed himself to his knees, looking rumpled and indignant. Megatron could see he was biting back his rage, which in itself was a new phenomenon for Starscream.  
  
“Recharge. You'll need your energy later,” Megatron said, and before Starscream could squawk a reply he shut the door and sealed it with a unique pass-code. Starscream would be imprisoned inside his new chamber until such time as Megatron felt like using him again. Which Megatron knew would be very soon.  
  
He stretched out his back and winced. He needed to rest first, though.


	3. Chapter 3

After Megatron had recharged and refuelled, he felt like a new mech. He called Lugnut and Blitzwing into the control room for a quick briefing. He told them that Starscream was their prisoner and that if either of them contested his judgement on this matter, they would be disciplined thoroughly.  
  
“I have no tolerance for dissent,” he said. “Even Starscream is repentant.”  
  
Which wasn't necessarily true – Starscream had never actually apologised, or behaved in the least bit contrite for his earlier treachery, but the important part was that he was no longer trying to offline Megatron every chance he got. And he was certainly making himself useful. If that wasn't a start toward making amends, Megatron didn't know what was.  
  
Lugnut wasn't happy about it, but Megatron didn't care. Blitzwing made some crass remark before switching back to his cool personality and nodding silently.  
  
He dismissed them both to get on with their allotted work, and sat a while in his throne. Sumdac worked quietly within his forcefield, no doubt keeping his head down after what he'd seen earlier. Megatron almost laughed at the thought.  
  
He checked his internal chronometer. Starscream should have had time to stew, but there was work of his own to be done. He moved to the room's central console and lost himself for the rest of the cycle in his plots and machinations, communications with his various contacts and agents.  
  
He became aware of the time again when the sun outside the cavern began to set. The light inside the control room changed subtly, owing to the short tunnel to the cliff-face that let in natural light. Megatron shut down the terminal he was using and sat back. He could continue, but the temptation was too great...  
  
Without a word to his subordinates, he rose and left the throne room. He retraced his steps through the labyrinthine mine-shafts to that small chamber.  
  
Before he even reached it, he heard a rhythmic thudding. He frowned and moved closer, on his guard. When he reached the door he exhaled in relief to see the lock had held. The thudding had stopped.  
  
After a moment's hesitation, he tapped the code into the touch-screen on the wall, and the door clicked and then slid open.  
  
He was immediately faced with twin sonic pulse cannon barrels pointing straight at his helm.  
  
He started to power up his cannon on instinct, but Starscream's optics focused on him, and the seeker disengaged his weapons. Megatron warily did the same. Starscream was sitting on the floor leaning against the far wall, one leg drawn up, though he had tensed and leaned forward when Megatron had entered.  
  
Starscream lowered his arms, and his cannons with them. “Forgive me, Lord Megatron,” he said. He narrowed his optics. “You can never be too careful. There are _Decepticons_ prowling around, after all.”  
  
“Quite.” Megatron stepped into the small room and looked around. He fought to suppress a weary sigh. There were scorch marks on and around the door, as well as claw marks around the locking mechanism. Most of the fuel containers that had been full when Megatron had dumped Starscream in there were now empty. Starscream relaxed against the wall and yawned. He still looked a mess – the transfluid on his armour had dried, but was still visible. The bite mark on his wing was gone, however.  
  
Starscream saw him looking. “What?” he said. “A mech's gotta refuel.”  
  
Megatron sighed heavily and grit his denta. “Good fuel is not easy to come by on this planet.”  
  
“Not my fault you put me in here."  
  
Megatron stepped forward, reached down, and grabbed Starscream's helm. It seemed the time apart had given Starscream a bit too much time to think. He needed to be reminded of his new place.  
  
Starscream shifted onto his knees and stared up at his master. His optics were bright.  
  
“If you need fuel, _I_ can give you everything you need.” Megatron unsheathed his spike and let the broad head of it bump against Starscream's lips. He didn't wait for the seeker to open, he grabbed Starscream's jaw and opened his mouth for him and then stuck his spike deep into Starscream's throat.  
  
Starscream put his hands on Megatron's thighs and squeezed. He gave a muffled moan and Megatron held onto the back of his helm and the top of the once-marked wing, and used these to help him fuck Starscream's mouth, slow at first, then faster. He wasn't trying to hurt him, and indeed Starscream sounded like he was enjoying it, despite his spluttering and gagging. Starscream moaned and whined, and his hands groped Megatron's hips before slipping back to knead his aft.  
  
Megatron thrust in to the hilt and ground in Starscream's throat, but when he felt his overload coming he pulled back so that only the head was pushed between the seeker's lips. He wanted Starscream to taste it. He came quickly and sharply, and sprayed his transfluid into the jet's eager mouth. He pulled back too soon, and a portion of his come splashed onto Starscream's face. Megatron growled and rubbed his spike against Starscream's cheek, smearing the fluid there. Starscream's engines were purring, and he licked and suckled at Megatron's shaft. His hands stroked the backs of Megatron's thighs.  
  
When Megatron drew back, he released Starscream's helm and let the jet sink down onto his heels. A small drop of transfluid hung on the end of Starscream's nasal ridge. The jet crossed his optics to look at it, an irritated expression on his face, and brought a hand up to wipe it off. Megatron held Starscream's wrist to prevent him, and Starscream looked up, optic ridges raised. Megatron laughed gently and wiped the drop off with his thumb. He then brought that thumb to Starscream's mouth, and the seeker obediently suckled the fluid off.  
  
Megatron stepped away. Starscream licked his lips, but kept his hands resting on his own thighs.  
  
“Feeling better, sir?” Starscream said.  
  
Megatron smirked. “Much.” He re-sheathed his spike. “Now get up.”  
  
“Sir...?” Starscream rose to his feet. He somehow still managed to be graceful even with a face full of fresh transfluid, and with dried, older come smears on his armour. He stood with his back straight, his head high. Megatron almost laughed.  
  
“You're a disgrace to the marks on your wings. What kind of a Decepticon would allow himself to walk around in such a state?”  
  
“Mm...” Starscream caught a rivulet of transfluid from the corner of his mouth on one fingertip, inspected it, and then sucked it off thoughtfully. “I've never been your typical Decepticon.”  
  
Megatron snorted and beckoned. “Follow me.”  
  
“Turning your back on me, my lord?” Starscream said archly. He followed Megatron out of the store-room. “How brave.”  
  
“And why shouldn't I?” Megatron glanced over his shoulder.  
  
Starscream smiled and shrugged. “Force of habit?”  
  
Megatron shook his head and led on. He wondered frivolously about getting some kind of leash for the seeker, but decided it would be too ridiculous, no matter how pleasing the mental image.  
  
He was glad they didn't meet Lugnut or Blitzwing on their way. He hadn't quite worked out how to present the situation to them and still retain their respect. Lugnut in particular may question the judgement of his _beloved_ leader. He needed another solar cycle or so to decide how to approach the matter.  
  
He led Starscream down a slim, sloping tunnel to a long cavern they had rigged into a rudimentary washracks. Water from the stream below the mine was pumped up into the cave, heated, and infused with a mild solvent, then routed into sprays hooked up to the rocky ceiling. Megatron dearly missed the washracks aboard the Nemesis, but one had to be practical. All in all it didn't look bad, and it did the job.  
  
He activated the shower system with another touchpad set into the wall. Starscream's wings perked up as warm, solvent-laced water gushed from the sprinkler in the ceiling. There was a drain set into the floor, and Starscream delicately stepped his thrusters around it to stand in the middle of the flow. Megatron watched him for a moment. The seeker turned his face up and shuttered his optics. His back was slightly arched, his aft pert and thighs taut, and his wings were held up high, water sluicing over every plane and making every curve glisten. He really did cut a beautiful picture.  
  
Megatron stepped forward and put his hands around Starscream's waist. He pressed his chest to the seeker's back, and purred when Starscream leaned against him. Starscream turned his head, and Megatron kissed him.  
  
His palm slid down Starscream's abdomen, and when he reached the seeker's exposed spike housing – Starscream had walked through the base with his panel open, of course – he fondled the edges, pushing and rubbing at the outline.  
  
Starscream arched and rocked his hips into Megatron's hand. Megatron bit Starscream's lower lip and sucked on it. He pushed Starscream's hips back, and ground his own against the seeker's aft. He kept teasing at Starscream's spike housing, and a couple of kliks later Starscream's control gave out and his spike began to pressurise. Megatron encouraged it with firm touches, squeezing and tugging as it unsheathed itself from its housing. It didn't take long to reach its full length and hardness, and Megatron watched over Starscream's shoulder to see it stand out hard and stiff from Starscream's body. It was a little bigger than he had expected, but not too surprising - Starscream had narrow hips and a tight valve, but he wasn't a small mech by any means. Starscream still had his optics shuttered and what looked like a frown of concentration on his face. His hands found Megatron's hips and held on tight. Megatron's engines rumbled, the vibrations thrumming through Starscream's frame. He pumped the seeker's spike in slow, tight strokes. Starscream arched and bucked his hips forward. Megatron watched the paths the thick rivulets of water took down the seeker's curvy frame, over the cockpit, between the thighs. He rubbed his thumb over the head of Starscream's spike, and then pressed it against the slit in the tip.  
  
Starscream keened loudly and squirmed in Megatron's hold. Megatron smiled darkly and stepped slightly to the side of his pet. Starscream's thighs were trembling, and he reached out to hold onto Megatron's frame, clearly afraid of falling. Megatron slid his hand from Starscream's belly to the small of his back, and then down over his aft to between his legs. He pushed three fingers into Starscream's valve and kept up the steady, slightly faster strokes to the seeker's spike. He thrust his fingers a few times, pushing deep and sharp, and pressed against a sensor bundle deep inside, on the front wall of Starscream's valve. Starscream scrabbled at Megatron's armour. He came with a yelp, and his thrusters slipped on the wet floor. Megatron caught him before he could fall, with one arm laced tightly around his waist while the fingers of his other hand remained deep inside his valve. The seeker's transfluid was washed away with the water.  
  
Starscream held onto Megatron for a few kliks, panting, wings shaking. Megatron nuzzled the side of Starscream's helm, and spread his fingers. Starscream mewled and squirmed. A couple more thrusts and Megatron withdrew his hand. Before the water could wash his fingers clean he pushed Starscream against the wall and shoved those three fingers into the seeker's mouth.  
  
Starscream made a muffled noise of irritation. He looked almost comical, his mouth stretched around Megatron's thick fingers, but Megatron only regarded him with dark, bright optics. Starscream held his optics and sucked. He flicked and slid his glossa against Megatron's fingers, and the tyrant shivered.  
  
“Not bad, Starscream...” Megatron pulled his fingers out and grabbed Starscream's wing. He used this to turn the seeker and then press him against the wall. They were no longer in the middle of the shower's flow, but the hot water still reached them. He ran his hands roughly down Starscream's sides, and then grabbed one thigh and lifted. He hooked Starscream's leg over his arm and placed his hands on the wall on either side of Starscream's waist, leaving the seeker balancing on the toes of one foot, leaning with his palms and cheek also on the wall in front of him. Megatron let his spike pressurise again and he rubbed it against the open entrance between Starscream's spread thighs.  
  
“You're mine, now,” Megatron purred. “Just as you were always meant to be.” He bit at Starscream's helm vent, and the seeker exhaled and pushed his hips back. Megatron eased Starscream's leg up higher, forcing the seeker's thighs even wider apart. Starscream turned his head to look behind him.  
  
“Yes...” Starscream whispered.  
  
Megatron snarled and rammed his spike in to the hilt. Starscream gasped, shivered, and then let out a long, high-pitched moan.  
  
“Say it.”  
  
“ _Yours_!” Megatron was surprised and pleased at how fast and easy it had come. “Mmm... move...?”  
  
“I'll move when _I_ want to, drone...” Megatron bit and licked at Starscream's shoulder and neck. He did move though; Starscream's valve was too sweet not to. He slid out slowly, and then slammed back in. He repeated this motion several times, grunting with each rapid in-stroke. His hip plating smacked against Starscream's aft, and warm water from the shower ran over his chassis, down his hips and over his spike. He lost his rhythm as Starscream bucked and yowled, and eventually switched to simply fucking the seeker as hard and as deep as he could. He didn't think he would ever get tired of this. He was also at a loss as to how he had never managed to try it before. It had taken a drastic reprogramming on Starscream's part to even make Megatron seriously consider it.  
  
“Mine...” He left a line of bite marks over Starscream's shoulder, and used one hand to tweak and dent the lower edge of a wing.  
  
“Your pleasure drone, my l-lord,” Starscream panted. His face bore a sluttish look of abandon and pleasure, and his valve gushed lubricants that dripped to the floor and were washed into the drain with the water. “Designed and programmed to be fragged... f-fucked... by you... oooh, harder...”  
  
“Still demanding, Starscream.” Megatron snapped his hips and rammed his spike in harder; he felt the seeker's valve clamp down on him, and the way Starscream kept rocking his hips back despite his precarious position only fuelled Megatron's need.  
  
“Not demanding... s-sir... wouldn't dream of it...” Starscream's words were punctuated with yelps and moans and growls, and Megatron saw the way the seeker's claws had curled into the wall, cutting scratches and holding on for purchase. “ _Begging_...”  
  
“Yes, do beg...” Megatron licked Starscream's cheek. He let Starscream's leg drop and instead wrapped his arm tight around Starscream's waist. The fingers of his other hand he shoved into Starscream's mouth, tilting his head back. He felt Starscream start to gag around them, but he only continued to fuck him until he overloaded with a roar. The force of his thrusts was so great that Starscream's feet left the floor on the in-strokes, Megatron taking his weight with his hips and his arms. Starscream remained latched onto the wall and wailed around his master's fingers. He came an astrosecond after he felt Megatron's transfluid flood his internals, but Megatron didn't notice.  
  
Megatron slowly pulled out and let go of Starscream. He stepped back into the shower's main stream and let the water clean him off. Starscream slid to his knees by the wall. He was panting, his wings twitching back and forward restlessly.  
  
Megatron leaned back against the opposite wall and waited until his intakes got back to something like a normal rhythm. He re-sheathed his spike and slid his plating back into place. Starscream was now shakily attempting to get to his feet.  
  
In a good mood from his overload, Megatron moved forward and helped him up. He turned him to face him and kissed him slowly. Starscream kissed him back and curled his arms around Megatron's neck, but the older mech took gentle hold of his wrists and brought his arms back to his sides.  
  
“You can be very distracting, Starscream,” he said. “The aim was to make you presentable.”  
  
“I _do_ apologise, my lord,” Starscream said breathlessly.  
  
Megatron pulled a soft cloth out of his subspace and began to wipe the seeker down. He did it slowly, and Starscream stood quietly to allow him. Megatron paid particular attention to the cockpit and wings, which soon had Starscream purring again. However, Megatron was conscious that the water wouldn't continue to run hot indefinitely. He slid the cloth between Starscream's legs, and Starscream stepped his feet apart and let his master clean him. When Megatron indicated with a gesture of his head that Starscream should turn, the seeker turned around without a word, and Megatron continued his work, washing away any marks and smears from Starscream's thighs, aft, back, and the backs of his wings.  
  
When Megatron was satisfied that Starscream was clean, he turned off the water. Starscream gave his wings a shake, and bright droplets shivered from them. Megatron took a quick optical snapshot and saved it to his hard-drive. He couldn't resist.  
  
“Now I just need a wax and polish,” Starscream said.  
  
“We'll see,” Megatron said, though the idea did appeal to him. In fact... “...Let's go back to my quarters.”  
  
Starscream grinned. “Yes _sir_.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional notes/warnings for this chapter: stretching, femdom, & this chapter is mostly Blackarachnia/Starscream. Blackarachnia has a spike, and uses it on Starscream.

Starscream stretched and yawned. He shifted langorously on the berth, and Megatron studied the movement of his curves with an appreciative optic.  
  
“You almost look fit to go out in public,” he said.  
  
“Almost,” Starscream said wryly. He knew how good he looked, freshly cleaned and gleaming with new wax.  
  
Megatron had begun to buff the seeker's armour using a rich wax and a soft cloth, but had soon dispensed with the cloth and used the pads of his fingers instead. The result was that both their engines were humming again.  
  
“Almost." He nudged Starscream's legs together. To submit to temptation now meant he would have to repeat the entire process to get rid of the resultant smudges and scratches. It had been a very pleasant process, of course, but he didn't have all the time in the world. He was a busy mech.  
  
“You've missed a couple spots,” Starscream said. He sat up and arched his back, presumably under the pretence of stretching out a kink. He then shifted gracefully onto his front, his cheek against the recently cleaned berth. He pushed his aft up.  
  
Megatron tutted. “Your processor always focuses on the important things.” He obligingly took a dab of wax on the pads of his first two fingers, and worked it in small, slow circles over the neglected area - the gentle curve of Starscream's aft. Megatron used his free hand to pull the seeker's thighs further apart again to allow his large hand to gradually work its way down between them. Starscream gave a low, purring moan and pushed his hips back. Megatron glanced up to study his face. Starscream's optics were shuttered tightly, and he was biting his lower lip. Megatron teasingly ran a fingertip over the lower edge of one of the jet's wings and chuckled to see it tremble. It seemed Starscream enjoyed being pampered. Well, that was all right. Megatron was happy to look after his toy and keep him sweet, so long as Starscream kept up his exemplary service.  
  
He kneaded and stroked wax over the tops of Starscream's inner thighs, making sure the wax was worked in well and the plating was left with a smooth shine, and then he lifted his hand. Starscream mewled and wiggled his his hips. He slid his panel open brazenly. “You missed another spot...”  
  
“Wanton whore,” Megatron said fondly.  
  
He lifted his hand, already reaching for the wax, when suddenly the chime on Megatron's chamber door sounded. Repeatedly. Megatron froze for an instant, and then growled low.  
  
“Hold that thought,” he said to Starscream, and rose to his feet. He left the seeker sprawled on the berth, confident he wouldn't wander off. He had removed Starscream's weapons, as he didn't want a repeat of the storage room incident, so he was no longer a threat if left unattended.  
  
He tapped the pad by the door to open it, and narrowed his optics at Blitzwing. “Yes?”  
  
“Sir.” Blitzwing saluted. “The perimeter sensors have tripped, my lord. We have an intruder.”  
  
Megatron shutterblinked. “Autobot?”  
  
“Negative.” His face changed, and he giggled. “One of ours!”  
  
“Eh?” He glanced back toward the berth-room. He supposed he should check this out. He sighed. “...All right.” He stepped out, and made a point of locking the door. Starscream would just have to manage.  
  
*  
  
The mysterious intruder was not a mystery for long. She revealed herself in the main throne room, dropping from the ceiling on a silvery rope and landing in an elegant bow.  
  
“Blackarachnia,” Megatron said as he took his seat upon his throne. He had a moment's pleasant thrill as he remembered taking Starscream for the first time right there, but then he shook his head and focused on the matter at hand. “So nice to welcome you back into the fold. I do take it our prodigal daughter has returned for good?” He steepled his fingers before his chest and crossed his legs.  
  
“I got separated from the rest of you, my lord,” Blackarachnia said smoothly. “It was unfortunate, but unavoidable.” Megatron knew the former-Autobot was almost as slippery as Starscream, but he didn't believe she would out and out betray him. She didn't care enough. At worst she would desert, as he believed she had done. Perhaps times had got too hard for her all on her own. That was fine – he needed the extra troops. She would be disciplined for her disappearance, but allowed to rejoin the unit.  
  
“Well, well. It seems all my wayward Decepticons are making their way back into the fold.” Blackarachnia tilted her head, but he waved a hand and ignored her quizzical look. “You will be formally reprimanded later. Until then, you should at least make yourself useful.”  
  
He launched into a series of directions regarding the latest plot to build upon their rudimentary communications network, and the work they still needed to carry out. The rest of the cycle was lost in work, but he didn't forget the sleepy, sulky seeker waiting for him in his chambers. Perhaps Starscream would be angry at being abandoned. Perhaps Megatron would enjoy making it up to him.  
  
*  
  
Blackarachnia sneaked through the quiet base. Megatron had deposited Starscream back in his cell once he had finished with him for the evening – the room now cleared out of remaining supplies – and locked the door as usual before finally retiring to his own chambers to recharge. Blackarachnia had spent a very brief time chatting with Lugnut and Blitzwing, and if the latter's bawdy comments were anything to go by, Megatron had a bit of a secret stashed away in one of these rooms...  
  
She found a locked door, hidden away in a shadowed dead-end corridor. She heard faint rustling inside, and pushed her audio to the door. It was quiet within, but she made out soft sounds of movement now and then.  
  
She frowned, and tapped the door with the tip of one claw.  
  
The sounds of movement ceased, and there was silence for a klik.  
  
Then, “Who's there?”  
  
Blackarachnia raised an optic ridge. Those were Starscream's vocals all right.  
  
“An old acquaintance,” she purred. She scratched the door with her claw-tip once, leaving a slim, silvery mark. “I can bust you out, if you want.” She said it conversationally. She didn't care one way or the other, over-much, but Starscream might be coerced to offer something in return for his freedom.  
  
“...Go on then.”  
  
“What's in it for me?”  
  
There was a scuffling sound and then the door shook under a strong impact. A kick from a thruster, Blackarachnia guessed, as she leaned back.  
  
“Cool your turbines, flyboy. You'd ask the same.” She crouched and studied the touchpad set into the wall beside the door. A locking mechanism. Well, Blackarachnia hadn't been the Nemesis' science officer for nothing. “The old mech's locked the door with a unique key.”  
  
“Of course he did.” She heard a yawn. “The lock's fried on this side.”  
  
Blackarachnia tilted her head. “...And how did that happen?”  
  
No answer.  
  
Mostly curious, Blackarachnia spent several kliks playing with the small wall-inset terminal, going deeper into the simple system. It was linked to the base's central network, but even that was primitive compared to native Cybertronian systems. Starscream drivelled on about something or other, but she filtered him out. Same tedious glitch he always was. “Aha...” She clicked through a couple more menus, and then Cybertronian alphanumerical characters began to scroll down the screen. The code was locking into place, and she smirked in satisfaction when the terminal gave a bleep and the door clunked and slowly opened.  
  
She rose to her feet and found herself faced with Starscream looming over her. Decepticons were invariably larger than her – she had been built an Autobot and a femme, the only thing worse would be if she were a minibot too – and Starscream had a habit of looking imposing when he wanted to. Must be the wings. She folded her arms and looked up to him with her most deliberately nonplussed expression.  
  
“There you go. You going to go wreak your vengeance on Megatron now?”  
  
“Hmm.” Starscream looked thoughtful for a moment. He cycled a long sigh, and then stepped back into the room. He stretched languorously and sat down at the far side of the room, his back and wings against the wall. He seemed relaxed, and sat with his legs drawn up, his shoulders lazily slumped. “Maybe later.”  
  
Blackarachnia made a show of inspecting her claws. She sauntered into the store-room. “Well, you've changed,” she said.  
  
“So I've been told.”  
  
Blackarachnia glanced around the room. It was more of a cell than a recharge chamber. “So what did I miss?”  
  
“Didn't you get the memo? I've been repaired. I had some kind of bad code glitching up my system... Megatron did something to remove it. Now I'm as good as new.” He gave a slight, asymmetrical smile and spread his hands. "I'm still on probation, though."  
  
“Right...” She sat down opposite him and pulled a couple of rust sticks from her subspace. She had stopped by the mess on her way. She charitably tossed one to the seeker.  
  
He caught it and started to suckle the end of it. Blackarachnia bit into hers.  
  
“Aren't you going to ask me where I've been?” she asked, after crunching and swallowing the tangy-sweet confection.  
  
Starscream shrugged. “I hadn't noticed you were gone. Although...” He gave his helm a small shake. “Some of my memory files must be faulty. There are gaps.”  
  
“I could fix that right up for you. I'd love to see what code you got 'repaired' too...”  
  
“Hah! As if I'd let your techno-organic paws fiddle around inside my processor.”  
  
“You did once.”  
  
“That was different.”  
  
“It was life or death.” She smirked, remembering the jet's past humiliations, hare-brained schemes, and vorns of shared watch rotas. She finished her rust stick and looked over her shoulder. The base was still dark and quiet. “So what will you do now?”  
  
Starscream licked his rust-stick thoughtfully. “Go find more of these.”  
  
“What, and stay here? You think he'll take you back?”  
  
“Oh, yes,” Starscream said, but didn't offer any further explanation than that.  
  
“So I should just lock you back in?”  
  
“He might find out otherwise. We'd both be...” He drew a claw across his throat and pulled a face.  
  
Blackarachnia shifted onto her knees. “And you care about that now?”  
  
“I have a job to do,” he said. He truly did seem conflicted. She could practically see the marks he'd worn into the floor with agitated pacing. He was a prisoner, and part of him wanted his freedom. But some other, new part was happy to remain in captivity... Blackarachnia shuffled closer. Frowning, she leaned in, invading his space. He leaned back against the wall and squawked some insult when she tapped the front of his helm. There was a faint crack there.  
  
“What happened to you?”  
  
“Get off!” Starscream grabbed her wrist. It looked thin and frail in his large hand, but she pulled hard.  
  
“He's done something to you,” she said, then tried to twist her hand free, hissing. Starscream growled – a warning.  
  
“You don't know what you're talking about.”  
  
“Why don't you explain it to me?” She wasn't sure why she was even that bothered, but something about this situation struck her as wrong. Starscream was behaving in a way she found disgusting.  
  
“My function...,” Starscream said, his vocals low, and softer than she had heard before. She tilted her head and stilled. “ _Lord_ Megatron's consort. The Decepticons' most honoured pleasure slave.” He said this with a small, almost conspiratorial smile.  
  
Blackarachnia paused for three astroseconds, then burst out laughing. When he only raised an optic ridge, she quieted down, though she was still smiling incredulously. “What...?” He let go of her wrist. “...Are you serious?” She laughed again and shook her head. To herself, she muttered, “That was _some_ reformat.” Aloud, she said, “You're the old mech's bitch, then?”  
  
Starscream sniffed. “If you want to call it that. I always was, my processor just got... corrupted...”  
  
“ _Right_...” Blackarachnia sat back on her heels and folded her arms. “So, does he share?”  
  
“Looking for a free sample?”  
  
“What if I am?” She didn't expect for one astrosecond that he would grab her waist and pull her astride his lap, but that was exactly what he did. He squeezed her thighs, and she spent a conflicted, embarrassed moment trying to wriggle off him. He bumped his hips up against hers, and she stopped. Bemused, she fixed him with a stare, demanding answers. Demanding _sense_. “I didn't- ...Oh, what the slag... Maybe I _did_ mean it... You really serious?”  
  
“Deadly.” Starscream stroked her thighs before sliding his hands up to her hips. His hands were large, and once again she felt small and frail in comparison to his far larger frame. Decepticons had been designed and built for war, while Autobot femmes like her had been designed for beauty – delicate and curvaceous, with little thought for strength. It was demeaning. Her cheeks and throat burned, and she dug her claws into the backs of his hands, causing him to yelp.  
  
“Slow down, _slave_ ,” she said. He gave her an irritated look, and removed his hands. She stood up, but kept her feet on either side of Starscream's hips. She stepped slightly closer. Starscream's response was a pleasant surprise; he leaned forward and nuzzled her thighs, one then the other, and when she didn't flinch away or kick him he flicked his glossa out to caress the curved metal too. “Oh...” Her vocalswent deeper, breathier. She ran a hand over Starscream's helm and tweaked the crests at the top, and one of the vents at the side. Starscream's hands slid slowly up her calves, then stroked the backs of her knees, but didn't move higher. He softly bit at the inside of one thigh, then suckled gently.  
  
She swayed, feeling dizzy with want. It had been so long since she'd 'faced another bot. She used her looks and her seductive manner to get ahead, but mechs always shied away when it came to the actual act. That, or she lost her nerve. After all, who would want to frag a mutant freak like her? Starscream was different, though... at least, he was now. No longer the haughty commander, her superior officer. Now he was a self-proclaimed pleasure slave, nothing but an easy whore. He would 'face her if she wanted him to. If he really was what he claimed, he should let her do whatever she liked. If he was disgusted by her organic half – and she still dreaded he would be, purely because it would be embarrassing – he would just have to deal with it. It wasn't a whore's place to express a preference.  
  
She opened her panel slowly. He waited a beat before nosing up between her thighs, and she inhaled sharply and held back a moan when he did. She felt his glossa slide out and lick the outer rim of her valve. It felt wet and hot enough to burn, and she flinched away. Starscream seemed to know what she wanted, though. He held the backs of her thighs and pulled her back, his grip light enough not to feel threatening. He spent some time lapping evenly at the soft rim of Blackarachnia's valve, getting her riled up without pushing too far. Her valve was growing wet, and it was with a wave of relief that she realised her interface equipment seemed to be responding and functioning just the way a “normal” bot's should. She stepped her feet a little wider apart as an invitation, and Starscream knew what to do. He began to sneak his glossa in a little deeper, the tip reaching past the tight rim with each lick. He would be tasting her fluids, mixing them with his oral lubricants and spreading the mixture over the valve's opening, gradually making her entrance tingly and slippery. He found a small node at the front, on the outer rim, and sucked on this for a moment. Blackarachnia cried out and her legs almost gave way. She put her hands on the seeker's shoulders for balance. She pushed her hips forward, and then gave a high-pitched, short cry of surprise when Starscream lifted one of her legs. He gripped her thigh and positioned her so that one of her knees rested on his shoulder, in the crook between his neck and wing. She took a moment to find her balance, and was grateful he kept a steady hold of her thigh and aft. Her thighs were spread wider now, her valve open and glistening and pushed against Starscream's face. He wasn't complaining. He licked deeper, pushing and wriggling his glossa inside her tight passage, getting her fluids smeared on his faceplates and humming softly, as though he was perfectly happy doing what he did best in the world. Perhaps he was. Blackarachnia moaned and keened with every movement of his glossa and lips, even though she tried to keep quiet. The store-room door was still open, and she didn't feel like being found, especially not by Megatron. She guessed their leader would not take kindly to anybot using his property without permission.  
  
Starscream altered his rhythm and began to fuck her valve with his glossa, made hard and almost pointy, faster so that it felt like her whole valve was throbbing with heat and sensation. She held onto his wings and ground her hips against his face until she came with a hiss and a snarl. She threw her head back and panted, sharp teeth bared, whole body shaking.  
  
Starscream went back to licking across the rim of her valve, his glossa flat and lapping now, as though cleaning her up. She felt the heat from his helm vents against her thighs.  
  
She shifted, and Starscream moved his head back and helped her back onto her feet. She stood unsteadily for a moment before sitting down, once again straddling the seeker's lap. Her valve oozed thick, sweet fluid onto his pelvic armour, and her thighs were trembling. She grabbed his helm and pulled him into a hungry, aggressive kiss. He returned it, and when her fangs nicked his lip he only ran his hands over her waist and groped the curves of her chestplates. She was still running hot, and she didn't want to stop yet. Who knew when she might have a chance like this again? Megatron might guard his whore more jealously, and Blackarachnia would be alone again with nothing but her own hands.  
  
She broke the kiss and ran her hands down his chassis. “Get on your back,” she said, her vocals low and predatory.  
  
“Yes ma'am,” he said playfully. He used his strength to lift her off him, and she stood leaning against the wall while he rearranged himself. He lay down on his back and looked up at her. His optics were bright crimson and hard to read. She walked around to his feet. He slid his thrusters against one another and stroked the lower edges of his wings, putting on a little show for her.  
  
“Spread your legs,” she said. “And open up.”  
  
He obeyed immediately, as though eager to display himself. He drew his feet up so his heels touched his aft and let his thighs fall open. She noticed he was still playing with his wing with one hand, while his other hand was now rubbing the curved, semi-transparent glass of his cockpit. He opened his panel and showed her his open valve, shiny with lubricant. His spike pressurised, too, impressively large. She knew it would be a pleasurable stretch for a bot as small as her to take. However, it was the valve she was interested in.  
  
She knelt between his legs and stroked his thighs with her fingertips. “Spread yourself for me, drone,” she purred. She loved having the Commander like this. Loved to have the upper hand, to be the one being obeyed.  
  
Starscream reached down with both hands. He pressed the index finger of each hand to either side of the rim of his valve and opened himself up, displaying the soft, sensitive inner area of his entrance. “Enough for you?” he said. His tone was at odds with his submissive behaviour; he sounded arch, playful, sarcastic. She glanced up at his face and was gratified to see that his face was still wet with her juices. His cheeks were tinted, and there was a sultry look in his optics, though she thought it was just as practised and artful as everything else the seeker did. Whatever, she didn't care.  
  
“No...” She guided his hands with her own, making him slowly push his fingers inside his valve. “ _Now_ spread.”  
  
Starscream let out a soft sound and she saw his body shiver. He obeyed; he curled his body slightly, kept his index fingers hooked deep inside his valve and moved them apart, stretching and opening his hole and allowing the femme to see even deeper. She saw his valve twitch and try to tighten up, try to close, but his fingers kept it open wide. A fresh trickle of lubricant welled inside it, coated its soft walls and the seeker's long digits.  
  
“Mmm... that's good,” Blackarachnia murmured. “Now hold yourself open like that.” She completely ignored his spike, which was straining and stiff, dribbling fluid from the tip, and instead stroked her fingertips up Starscream's thighs until she reached the tender valve. “How many times has he already come in here? I'm surprised it's not still dripping out of you.” She didn't know why, but she found the idea incredibly hot. She wondered if Starscream's new role would extend to servicing the rest of the army, or just their leader. Cruelly, she liked the idea of the obnoxious jet being used by the whole faction, passed around from bot to bot, shared out like property. She pictured him kneeling somewhere public like one of the large mess halls back in the army's old Cybertronian bases, leaking transfluid from his valve and aft, fuel tank churning with it from swallowing so many spikes, just waiting for the next crowd to take their turn.  
  
She pushed two slim fingers deep inside and felt around. He was really wet, and she was pleased to hear him moan softly. It seemed he had been craving a touch. She didn't think he particularly wanted _her_ touch, necessarily, rather that anybot would do. He arched his back and shuttered his optics. She felt his valve try to constrict around her fingers. “Wider.” He grit his denta and slid the second fingers from each of his hands inside himself. Her hands were a lot smaller than his, but that was still six fingers. Her processor almost stalled at the thought, and she leaned down to watch more closely. He gently spread himself more, stretching carefully. Lubricant escaped the stretched rim and ran over his aft toward the floor. Impulsively, Blackarachnia darted forward and licked some of it off his aft before it could fall. It tasted tart, not unpleasant. She was tempted to return the favour he had done her and spend some time simply licking as much of the stuff out of him as she could, but her body had other ideas.  
  
“Okay, that's enough,” she said, and withdrew his fingers. He moaned quietly and did the same. Their fingers were coated in thick fluid. She sat back on her heels and, finally, allowed her spike to extend.  
  
It wasn't as big as most mechs', since the rest of her frame was slight, but she didn't think it was too small to be pleasurable for the bot she was 'facing. Starscream was a large mech, and his valve was very flexible – as he had just demonstrated so beautifully – but it was still tight enough to be pleasurable for _her_. She wondered if there was really any truth in his claims of really having been a pleasure bot all along, as he seemed well designed for it.  
  
She knelt up and rubbed her spike against his opening. He groaned and pawed at her hips. He bucked under her, and she almost laughed to see his spike bounce between their frames.  
  
“Easy, flyboy...” She eased her spike inside him very slowly. It was indescribably sweet, intense, almost painful. She panted and gasped as his valve swallowed her, tight and throbbing around her length. She met his optics and he gave her a ragged, knowing smirk. He tilted her head up, curled his chassis, and kissed her.  
  
She wanted to go slowly and draw it out, but in the end she didn't have the restraint. She pistoned her hips wildly and slammed into the seeker hard, wanting him to feel it, wanting his reactions to fuel her own pleasure. He didn't disappoint. He pushed his hips up to meet hers with just as much enthusiasm, perhaps sensing what she needed. He kept his thighs tight against her waist, thrusters sliding warmly against the backs of her legs. He let her pin his wrists to his wings and didn't resist, only gasped and keened and writhed, wings rubbing against the smooth floor, back arching.  
  
Somehow, she managed to stop herself before she came.  
  
“S-stop, stop, stop...” She pulled at his thighs, pushing them apart so she could slide her spike out from his luxuriantly wet valve. He seemed confused for a moment, but when she knelt astride his face understanding dawned. He chuckled quietly and licked his lips, then extended his glossa to lick at the head of Blackarachnia's spike. His hands played with her delicate feet, and she held his helm down with one hand and stroked her spike fast with the other. She didn't let him lick again, and instead just pumped her spike for a few fevered astroseconds until she overloaded and sprayed her load of thick, silvery come all over the Air Commander's face.  
  
He parted his lips and shuttered his optics. His glossa did dart out again and he licked the corner of his mouth, tasting her transfluid. When her overload had passed she slumped, sitting back onto his chest. The last few dribbles of her transfluid dripped onto Starscream's throat cables.  
  
“Mmm...” Starscream shifted under her. “I didn't know you had it in you.”  
  
“I may be a femme, but _you're_ the whore,” she said with a smirk. She was tired, her intakes deep and only gradually slowing. Her body was humming with the after-effects of such heady pleasure, and her valve spasmed pleasantly.  
  
Eventually she got off him and somehow got to her feet. He propped himself into a sitting position. She noticed his spike was still hard. He hadn't come once.  
  
He gave her an expectant, almost pleading look, made even more pitiful considering his face was still covered in her come, which was slowly dripping onto his cockpit. Some of it had sprayed over one of his optics, so he kept that one shuttered.  
  
“Thanks,” she said. She slid her pelvic armour back into place and wiped her thighs, flicking droplets of fluid from her fingers onto the chamber floor. “We should do that again sometime.”  
  
“Wait...”  
  
“It's been great catching up.” She backed out the door, her step light. She offered him a bright, sadistic grin. “I should really go get some recharge, it's my first real cycle back tomorrow. Busy busy.”  
  
“Wait!”  
  
He started to scramble to his feet, but she tapped the panel on the wall and the door slid shut. He slammed into it with his fists, and she hastily pressed a couple more characters and relaxed when she heard the soft click of the lock.  
  
“Shhh,” she said. She leaned close to the door, and she knew Starscream was listening, despite his desperation. “Don't be too loud. You wouldn't want your master to find you like that, would you? Imagine how _betrayed_ he would feel.”  
  
Starscream's silence on the other side of the door spoke volumes.  
  
“Like I said, it's been great.” She heard him growl and mutter something, but she just blew a kiss to the door and turned. She walked back to her quarters with a spring in her step, content in the knowledge Starscream would not tell Megatron anything had happened. Even Starscream had too much sense for that, and he had until morning to clean himself up. And perhaps, just perhaps, she would return to the seeker's cell sometime later for a second round.  
  



	5. Chapter 5

Megatron had to find somewhere more practical to keep Starscream. He had waited until mid-morning before yielding to the temptation to “check on” his captive, and he now made the journey once again down that winding corridor toward the tiny store-room.  
  
The door panel bleeped at him when he tapped in the usual code, and he frowned. He touched a couple of glyphs and waited, and eventually the panel flashed pale violet and the door unlocked. The door opened, and Megatron stepped forward.  
  
Starscream was sprawled out on the floor with his arms folded behind his helm and his legs crossed, one thruster bobbing restlessly. Megatron cast a critical, keen optic around the room, sure something would be amiss.  
  
“Good morning,” Starscream said. “My lord.”  
  
“When you address me, you will do so with respect, Starscream,” Megatron said wearily. He stood over the jet and waited for Starscream to stand to attention, as he felt he should. When Starscream only yawned, Megatron cycled a long sigh. Programming modifications aside, Starscream was still a pain in the aft. “Get up.”  
  
“Sir.” Starscream took his time sinuously rising to his feet. Once upright, he gave his wings a deliberate flick and gave his master a coquettish look. Megatron wasn't sure why he had to put up with such attitude any more. He gave Starscream a hard, wry look, and the jet paused a beat and then bowed. Megatron inspected him. His plating looked good as new, as always, though Megatron thought he might have lost some of the last cycle's shine. He thought he saw prints and smudged here and there. There were some marks on the floor, and a certain faint scent in the air. It seemed Starscream had found a way to entertain himself.  
  
“Did you get lonely without me, slave?” he said softly. He touched a fingertip to the underside of Starscream's chin and tilted his head up. Starscream straightened and met Megatron's optics.  
  
“Naturally,” Starscream said.  
  
Megatron guided Starscream into a kiss. Languorous and slow, Megatron simply enjoyed his pet, relishing the touch and warmth. Starscream didn't touch him, but returned the kliss with just the right amount of force, as though very carefully gauged.  
  
“Can I serve you, Master?” Starscream breathed as the kiss broke. Megatron licked Starscream's lips and ran his hands down Starscream's body to squeeze his narrow waist.  
  
“Always.” He kneaded the warm metal beneath his hands. “But not here. It's dreary in here.”  
  
“Only the best living arrangements for Lord Megatron's consort.”  
  
Megatron glowered at him. “Consort is a bit high above you, Starscream. Whore will do for now.” He turned. “Heel.”  
  
“Yes sir.”  
  
Instead of going back to his own quarters, Megatron went to the control room. Blitzwing, Lugnut, and Blackarachnia were out on recon duty, so he had the place to himself. He bypassed his throne and sat down in a seat at one of the control consoles. The screen was blinking, demanding a moment's attention, and Megatron was still the type to stall pleasure for work, unfortunately. Starscream trailed after him. He dawdled, taking in the scale of the room, peering idly at screens and comm terminals. Megatron booted up the terminal proper as Starscream reached his side. Megatron acknowledged his presence with a grunt. He put one arm around the seeker's waist and pulled him into his lap, never taking his optics from the now bright viz-screen. Starscream settled himself, perching elegantly on one of Megatron's thighs, the bigger mech's arm around his middle. Megatron used his free hand to tap away at the console. Starscream watched the movement of his fingers.  
  
They settled into a sort of peaceful quiet, Megatron half-heartedly working and Starscream leaning against his shoulder. To Megatron it was actually pleasant. He liked having the seeker's pretty frame draped on him while he completed his tedious tasks. He gave Starscream's waist a squeeze. Starscream nuzzled his cheek in return. Megatron paused his work and turned his head to kiss the seeker quickly. His fingers splayed against Starscream's belly, feeling the lower curve of the cockpit, his arm tight around the tiny waist. Starscream draped his arm across Megatron's chest and slid his thrusters against the tyrant's leg.  
  
“You're doing it again, Starscream,” Megatron said.  
  
“Doing what, my lord?” Starscream's elegant claw-tips danced across Megatron's shoulders and chest.  
  
“Distracting...” He tweaked the base of one wing. He was more careful with Starscream's wings now he knew how sensitive they were. Not necessarily because he didn't want to hurt the seeker – Starscream had actually seemed to enjoy the rough handling he received in Megatron's berth before – but he was still partly afraid that if he did push Starscream too far, this new programming would somehow unwrite itself and he'd be left with the same traitorous glitch he'd known before. He didn't pause to examine his feelings about that prospect. It was possible they weren't all negative.  
  
"But you promised..." Starscream kissed him and then slithered onto the floor. He kissed his way down Megatron's broad chassis and knelt between his thighs. Megatron watched him, his optics half shuttered, his body still but for the slight movements of his intakes. He stroked the top of a wing, then the side of Starscream's helm. He rubbed his thumb against the vents there as Starscream manipulated the seams in Megatron's pelvic armour. Forward of him, but Megatron didn't mind in this instance. He wasn't at all surprised by Starscream being pushy. He slid his panel back and sat back and let Starscream tease his spike out with licks and soft touches. He licked his lips and watched Starscream work.  
  
Starscream licked slowly from the base to tip of Megatron's spike, and then spent some time playing, teasing, and caressing the length with soft fingertips, lips, and glossa. He seemed to enjoy this, but Megatron was left somewhere between melting into his seat and grabbing the seeker out of pure frustration.  
  
“Don't let me distract you, my lord,” Starscream purred, and Megatron felt the warmth of his breath against his spike. He moaned, quiet but deep, and rolled his hips. Starscream's fingertips played over his inner thighs and his hips. Megatron's frame gave a sweet shiver when the seeker's touch ghosted across his valve. Starscream didn't go further than that, only stroked the rim, and intensified his attentions on Megatron's spike. He slowly took the length into his throat and began to bob his head and let the shaft slide in and out of his lips. Megatron relaxed. He shuttered his optics and cycled a slow sigh as his frame heated up...  
  
The console bleeped, and Megatron jolted back to full awareness. He hit a glyph in the hope of turning it off and the viz-screen flared back to life – it had slipped into standby mode – and was filled with snowy, fizzing static. Starscream swallowed around Megatron's spike and the older mech stalled, mouth open, and gripped the arms of his seat. His hips ground up all by themselves, his body filled with a wave of pulsing heat, and the static on the screen cleared.  
  
Megatron pressed his optics shut tight as Starscream sucked him hard. He rolled and jerked his hips, coming sweetly. His audios were filled with the roar and pulse of his own energon in his fuel lines. He did not hear the mild sound of a mech delicately clearing his throat.  
  
Megatron slumped back in his chair. Starscream didn't stop, but he did ease up a little, switching back to soft caresses of his lips and glossa. One fingertip rubbed at the rim of his master's valve. Megatron's legs were splayed, his hands kneading the seat's arms.  
  
He cycled some deep intakes, and then, coming back to himself, he finally onlined his optics. There was a long, tense silence.  
  
“...Shockwave.”  



	6. Chapter 6

  
  
Shockwave was appalled at how hard it had been to get a transwarp-ready ship at short notice. The war wasn't a full-scale conflict – not for the Autobots, not yet – but the Guard still had practically every resource on a tight lockdown. Fortunately, "Longarm" was able to use his Prime status to borrow a small ship under the pretense of a quick recon mission to a small organic planet. His little expedition wasn't sanctioned by the council. Strictly under the radar. Being Prime had its advantages sometimes.  
  
He hadn't told Megatron he was coming, but it was clear his presence on Earth was required. Obviously something awful had happened to force Megatron to take leave of his senses. Shockwave tangibly shook with repressed rage when he replayed the scene in his memory core.  
  
The comm channel had opened with the usual fizz of static – for an encrypted signal into Iacon, the reception was actually excellent – and Shockwave had sat up straight and prepared to receive instructions from his leader. He welcomed these calls, dangerous as they were. However, when the image cleared he had frozen as his anticipation morphed into mortification.  
  
Megatron had appeared unaware of the open vid-link. Optics shuttered, lips parted, his frame had moved restlessly for a few precious moments before the obvious, exquisite moment when he had bucked and thrown his helm back, and Shockwave had watched his master come.  
  
He wished to the Allspark he'd thought to press 'record'. Even if it would have compromised his cover.  
  
Shockwave had then become aware of the top of a black helm, almost out of shot, and the tips of two wings. Megatron had finally onlined his optics, and Shockwave had wished he had never made the call in the first place because surely his master would have him deactivated for this. He probably deserved it. The black helm had lifted, and the other mech had turned to the camera.  
  
Of course it was Starscream. He had looked up at Shockwave with dark, sleepy optics and a dirty smile, and then slowly and lasciviously licked his lips.  
  
Shockwave had to commend Megatron on how quickly he'd collected himself. His tone had been icy, though, which had stung. Shockwave had stiffly uttered some kind of apology, and Megatron had cut the feed.  
  
Shockwave had sat for a long time after that, just staring at the screen.  
  
Shockwave adored Megatron, of course he did. Just as he believed any upstanding 'Con ought to. But to even think of his leader sexually seemed sacrilegious, and to actually _see_ Megatron in... while he-... Shockwave couldn't even think about it. His fans kicked into gear just at the notion – not from desire, but acute embarrassment.  
  
Starscream, on the other hand... Shockwave had no such reverence for Starscream. Even before the jet's ultimate betrayal – which Megatron had filled him in on following his full reactivation, naturally – Shockwave had always known there was something rotten inside the seeker's core. He'd always known Starscream was scum. He didn't know how Megatron had managed to tame him enough to get him sucking his spike like that, but he had to commend him. It was surely the only thing a mech like Starscream was good for.

Sitting on the spacious bridge of the ship he had managed to “borrow” for the voyage to Earth, Shockwave felt his systems heat up as he allowed his thoughts to wander. He was alone on the ship. It was a small transport, and he had to wait until he was outside of Cybertron's immediate airspace before he could activate the transwarp drive. He'd set the co-ordinates, and now he could sit back and wait. He leaned back in his seat and shut off his optic.  
  
He didn't doubt Starscream was up to something. It was the whole reason he was travelling to Earth in the first place. Megatron had fallen for Starscream's deceit, and only Shockwave could convince him that the treacherous seeker was just a lying, sparkless whore who would tear his leader's spark out the first chance he got. He should be deactivated immediately. Or at least imprisoned. Imprisoned and kept as a drone, perhaps...  
  
His hand trailed up his thigh, and the narrow points of his claws left slim, sharp scores in his armour as they went. He would warn Megatron, he would save him. He wished Megatron had stayed on the line long enough to explain. Not that his lord should have to explain himself to Shockwave... Shockwave shook his head. His processor was glitching, and his visual matrix was conjuring a jumbled mess of images that made his fans whirr and his engine hum. Starscream on his knees between Shockwave's thighs, sucking _his_ spike instead of Megatron's, lips stretched around the thick shaft, optics leaking as he choked on it. Grabbing Starscream's wings hard enough to make him yelp, moving him where he wanted. Having him bound and gagged like a traitor should be. Spreading him wide and drilling into his disgusting little valve.  
  
His hand was around his spike. His hips lifted as his slim, angular fingers stroked the shaft, which had pressurised without his conscious knowledge. He onlined his optic and looked down. He so rarely allowed himself anything like this...  
  
With effort, he removed his hand from his spike. The length stood stiff and thick between his thighs, and seemed to tremble with every small movement of his hips. He gripped the arms of his chair. To overload while thinking of _Starscream_? He refused to allow himself to sink so low. He deleted all thoughts of the deceitful jet from his processor, and spent several agonising kliks trying to will his spike to de-pressurise.  
  
When it didn't work, he cycled a long sigh of frustration. Well, he might as well get it over with. He glanced around himself – even though there was no other bot on the ship – and then relaxed back into the seat. He spread his thighs and wrapped his spindly fingers around his length again. His spike twitched and returned to its full hardness at the first touch, and he hissed. He pictured Starscream again, in more detail this time. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it properly. He offlined his optic.  
  
Starscream was on his knees before him. His wrists were chained behind his back, and a grotesque gag kept his mouth open wide. His weapons were removed, thrusters disabled, wings bound and linked together with metal cord to prevent movement. Grounded and helpless. Shockwave grabbed his helm and stuffed his spike deep into the seeker's mouth. He wanted him to gag, choke, and then willingly come back for more. He thrust fast and deep, relishing the seeker's whimpers and his attempts to pull away. His hand pumped faster and his hips bucked. He pulled out of Starscream's mouth and kicked him onto his back. He used the bound wings to pull Starscream onto his front, and he raked his claws down the smooth curves of the seeker's back and aft. He spread Starscream's thighs and ripped off the armour covering his valve. He rammed his spike in to the hilt. Starscream's valve was wet – because surely a slut like Starscream would get hot from even this kind of rough treatment – and tight, and the seeker squealed at the painful penetration. He writhed and squirmed, but Shockwave held his waist and just slammed into him. Starscream stilled and pressed his helm down, submitting, finally. Shockwave purred and increased the girth of his spike. Starscream moaned and trembled around him, and Shockwave swelled his spike to the point it was almost painful. He fucked the lithe seeker until Starscream sobbed and came, and only then did he overload himself. He came deep inside the jet, holding deep and grinding, claws locked into the tender plating of Starscream's hips and drawing energon.  
  
The bridge was silent and still for several kliks. When Shockwave finally onlined his optic he looked down. He'd overloaded in his hand, and sticky transfluid now coated his talons and part of the console he was sitting by. How revolting.  
  
He pulled a cleansing cloth from his subspace and cleaned up the mess immediately. He felt better now, if rather disgusted at himself. Starscream was not worthy of his attention. He _certainly_ wasn't worthy of his lord Megatron's attention. Somebot had to put a stop to that madness. Megatron would thank him for it in the long-run. Something had to be done.  
  
He refreshed his memory core and rid himself of the images that had plagued him. Feeling refreshed, he realised he was almost at the transwarp point.  
  
Soon everything would be as it should be again. Soon.  
  
*  
  
Megatron lay on his front on the berth. He had a datapad before him, which he was scrolling through. His expression was pensive.  
  
Starscream sat astride his waist and stroked his hands firmly over Megatron's shoulder-blades. He had some mildly scented wax on his fingers, and he concentrated quietly as he worked it into the planes and joints of his master's back and shoulders. Megatron relaxed tangibly under him as the seeker found and worked at little knots of tension, easing tired struts and soothing the sensor nodes he came across.  
  
“We cannot continue like this, of course,” Megatron said.  
  
Starscream paused for an astrosecond. He resumed the motion of his hands, slowly. “We can't?”  
  
Megatron tapped a glyph on his datapad. “No. I've been considering what angle to take.”  
  
“Angle...”  
  
Megatron made a quiet, exasperated sound. “Your position. Obviously you are no longer second in command. Shockwave was always next in line for that anyway, so it's not a problem.”  
  
“Mm.”  
  
“But I need an official reason to keep you around.”  
  
Starscream's hands felt wonderful on his overworked sensornet. The seeker was being careful not to scratch with the tips of his claws at all, and instead the nimble digits were able to find and manipulate even small seams and components. He moved up to the base of Megatron's neck, massaging and stroking. Megatron let out an appreciative little moan. Starscream was warm and heavy on his back, his thighs tight against his chassis. The lighting in the chamber was a soft violet, and the door was locked. They were alone.  
  
“...Perhaps I'm earning your trust. Proving myself.” Starscream ran his palms down Megatron's frame to rest on the small of his back and leaned close. His vocals were a purr in Megatron's audio. “That's the truth, isn't it?”  
  
“Hm.” Megatron gave a small, asymmetrical smile and finally tore his optics away from the datapad to turn his head and meet Starscream's sultry gaze. “After a fashion.”  
  
Starscream nuzzled his cheek. He brought his hands to Megatron's shoulders and lay down on Megatron's back. Megatron felt the swell of Starscream's cockpit, cool where it should be warmed by a spark beneath.  
  
“It is similar to what I was thinking, though. The incident with Shockwave was... unfortunate.” Starscream tried to stifle a snigger. Megatron looked thoughtful. “...I ought to call him back.”  
  
“He can manage.” Starscream slid his hands under Megatron's chest in a surprising, soft embrace. Megatron frowned, even though he rather liked it. He wondered, amused, how much of this newfound affection was Starscream's new programming, and how much of it was Starscream putting on a convincing show. He sighed softly when the seeker kissed between his shoulders. “Actually," Starscream said, "I'm not so sure. Probably fried his circuits...”  
  
“Starscream...”  
  
“What?” Starscream was grinning. Megatron knelt up and pulled Starscream onto the berth on his back. He pinned him with one hand on a wing and the other on the seeker's cockpit. Starscream kept his cocky smile.  
  
“That's my second in command you're laughing at.”  
  
Megatron thought he saw a glitter in Starscream's optics, hard and sharp like a blade's edge, but the smile did not falter. It was probably his imagination.  
  
Starscream gave as good a shrug as he was able to in his position, and then ran his hands over Megatron's wrists and forearms. “I wonder who he was more jealous of.”  
  
Megatron frowned. “Were you always so crude?”  
  
“Yes,” Starscream answered with a snicker. “You like it...” There was a soft hiss as his valve cover opened. Megatron recognised the sound, didn't even have to look.  
  
“Presumptuous for a whore, aren't you?” he grumbled good-naturedly. He knelt up and looked at his prize. He could happily have Starscream like this forever, he thought. In a way he missed the fire and the danger of the old Starscream, the warrior, but the new version had his advantages too. Starscream pressed his thighs together coyly.  
  
Megatron gave a “tsk” and grabbed the seeker's knees, easily forcing them wide apart. He pulled Starscream a little down the berth, closer to him, and nudged his knees under the jet's rounded little aft. Starscream lifted his hips to help, and Megatron slid inside him within a sparkbeat.  
  
It never ceased to be shocking, the feel and sight of having his defiant commander spread out under him, welcoming him into his body like this. Megatron's frame trembled and he ran his hands over the seeker's plating, lingering over the smooth curves of his thighs, hips, and waist. He was under no illusions, of course. He knew what he was doing, and he knew exactly how the “real” Starscream would see it. He knew he was playing with fire, too – if Starscream were ever to come to his senses, this peaceful little charade would end abruptly and violently. One of them would be deactivated, and Megatron was quietly sure it would be Starscream. Such a pity...  
  
He pressed down on Starscream's abdomen and leaned over him, rocking his hips evenly. Starscream's engines purred, and Megatron felt the warmth of his thrusters against the small of his back. Perhaps he should think about a more permanent, more secure cell for him. Perhaps restraints of some kind. At least until he could be sure...  
  
He hiked Starscream's legs over his broad shoulders and drank in the seeker's breathy gasp with relish. Who was he trying to convince? He could never, ever be sure. He had trusted Starscream once, and it had gotten them both killed.  
  
He bared his teeth with a low snarl and ground into Starscream harder. Starscream licked his lips, optics shuttered, and held onto Megatron's upper arms, kneading and stroking. Megatron pressed Starscream down into the berth with his weight and kissed him hard. He pushed his glossa deep into the seeker's mouth and didn't give him the chance to reciprocate, the kiss aggressive and suffocating. His hands pawed and gripped Starscream's thighs and aft, and he fancied he was leaving marks and dents in the sleek armour. Marks to match the brands on his wings. Maybe he should rebrand Starscream – reclaim him, in a way. Perhaps some new mark to differentiate him from real soldiers. So everybot would know what Starscream had become. How far he had fallen.  
  
He bit Starscream's throat as he overloaded. Starscream yelped and twitched under him, but he was focused only on his own pleasure and his inner imaginings. It was only after his climax started to fade that he realised he could taste energon. He lifted his head slowly and hesitated a moment before swallowing. Starscream looked up at him sleepily. He rubbed the pad of one thumb against Megatron's lower lip, collecting some of the pink fluid, and then slipped the digit between his own lips and sucked. Megatron gave a low moan and slid his spike out of Starscream's valve. He held the jet's ankles and manhandled him onto his side. He absently gave Starscream's aft a slap. He smirked. There was a mark.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Shockwave had had the worst journey imaginable. It had taken decacycles longer than it should have, due to a malfunctioning transwarp drive. Curse those incompetent Autobot mechanics and their creaking, pre-war vessels.  
  
He had spent much of the voyage pacing the command deck, his processor a mess of fraught, frustrated thoughts. The ship's transwarp drive had bounced him half-way around the universe before eventually – and possibly only by fluke – popping him into the correct galaxy. He had then switched to more conventional means of traversing said galaxy toward Earth's solar system, in case the accursed ship glitched again and he ended up lightyears away once more. The craft's thrusters were slower, but they were adequate.  
  
He mutely sent a prayer to the Allspark as the ship finally, at long, long last, entered the little planet's atmosphere. He landed close to the co-ordinates he had on file for the organic city of Detroit. He knew Megatron's base was located somewhere in the rural area surrounding the city, so it would only be a matter of time now before Starscream was beaten back down into his place.  
  
*  
  
Blitzwing met him at the entrance to the mine. He was relieved to see it was the cool-headed personality in attendance today, and as such the triple-changer showed him what he felt was the appropriate level of deference and professionalism.  
  
“Lord Megatron has been expecting you,” Blitzwing said.  
  
Shockwave gave a small, involuntary chirp of surprise. “He has? I mean... of course he has.”  
  
“We picked up your energy signature as you entered the atmosphere.” Blitzwing gestured that Shockwave should follow him, and turned and began to walk deeper into the dark, subterranean tunnel. “He mentioned there was something he wanted to discuss with you.”  
  
“I'm sure...” Shockwave clasped his claws behind his back and followed his guide. When he said no more, Blitzwing turned back and glanced at him once. Shockwave thought he saw a tiny, knowing smirk on the other mech's face, but Blitzwing had turned away again before he could be sure.  
  
He led him down a gently sloping shaft, going deeper into the hillside. The ground was smooth and cleared of rubble, and he could see where the walls had been repaired, and here and there inset with lights and touch-sensitive computer panels. It wasn't the grandest headquarters his master could have occupied, but it did at least seem functional, and not in total disrepair. He supposed Megatron had chosen it primarily for its advantageous location.  
  
The corridor grew gradually broader, until Blitzwing eventually led him into a huge, shadowy cavern which Shockwave immediately saw was the control room to this rudimentary base. There was a large bank of consoles off to the left, various dark corridors leading off the central chamber, and straight ahead – the throne.  
  
Shockwave stepped forward, and Blitzwing nodded respectfully and hung back.  
  
Shockwave instinctively sank into a fluid kneeling bow. Megatron was seated in the high-backed throne with his legs elegantly crossed. In his hand he held a goblet of oil, which he swirled absently as he watched his subordinate enter and kneel before him.  
  
“My lord...” Shockwave began. As he spoke he raised his head. His optic pulsed a brighter red. Megatron was seated half in shadow, the glow of his optics visible in the gloom. But there was another set of optics illuminating the shadows to the right of Megatron's throne. Shockwave refreshed his optic, and the shadowed mech came into focus.  
  
It was Starscream. He was standing to attention, as he had once done as a matter of course – serious, straight-backed, and very much at Megatron's right hand.  
  
Where Shockwave belonged.  
  
Megatron let Shockwave squirm silently for another moment – Shockwave poised in his bow, his frame prickling with tension – before he spoke. “Shockwave. To what do I owe this... _unscheduled_ visit?”  
  
“...My lord Megatron, I can only apologise. Under normal circumstances I would never leave my post-”  
  
“I should think not.” Megatron's tone was crisp and sharp. He held out his goblet and Starscream took it from him. The seeker kept his optics straight ahead, and his movements small and fluid. Megatron rose to his feet. “Please tell me the Elite Guard has been disbanded and your presence upon Cybertron is no longer necessary, as I can think of no other plausible reason why you would have failed me so... uncharacteristically.”  
  
Shockwave's talons curled, and he waited a few beats before replying. “Lord Megatron. My cover is in no way compromised by this short visit. I merely needed to speak with you in a secure environment. I believe the encrypted Iacon channel may have been compromised.” It wasn't a total lie, Shockwave told himself. It was simply a delicate way of putting the truth, in light of present company. His optic flicked briefly to Starscream again. The jet remained by Megatron's throne, holding his lord's goblet in one clawed hand. Only this time, Starscream dared to look at Shockwave. Their optics met for a moment. Shockwave's held a challenge. Starscream's gaze was placid.  
  
Megatron followed the line of Shockwave's sight. “Ah yes. My wayward second... Shockwave, there _are_ matters we should discuss. Seeing as you're here.”  
  
“I would be most receptive to them, my liege.”  
  
Megatron nodded. He gestured to Starscream. “Starscream, where are your manners? Get Shockwave a drink. “  
  
“Sir,” Starscream said with a nod. Shockwave was stunned. Starscream's act was flawless.  
  
“Rise,” Megatron said to Shockwave, and Shockwave stood. Megatron linked his hands behind his back. “Report, while we wait.”  
  
“Sir? Ah, the... Autobot stronghold. Nothing much to report, my lord.” He stood to attention. He noticed Starscream's attitude became more relaxed as he moved behind the throne to retrieve a goblet of oil for Shockwave. His heels clicked lightly as he approached, and Shockwave stiffly took the offered fuel. Starscream gave the very tiniest of smirks and Shockwave very nearly crushed the goblet in his claw. To distract himself, he launched into a dry description of the Elite Guard's recent movements. As he tried his best to recount the situation accurately, Starscream poorly stifled a yawn and sashayed back to Megatron's throne. Shockwave followed him with his optic, which burned an intense crimson.  
  
Starscream draped his arm on the top of the throne and leaned. His optics were sleepy and challenging now, his pose insouciant. Shockwave looked at Megatron, not believing the seeker's blatantly disrespectful behaviour.  
  
To his surprise, Megatron only glanced at Starscream and his mouth quirked into a small, asymmetrical smile. As though he were amused by the jet's attitude. Not possible...  
  
“Perhaps we should retire to somewhere more comfortable, and I can brief you on the, ah, developments here,” Megatron said. “Since you've come all this way.”  
  
*  
  
They moved to Megatron's own suite of rooms. Shockwave was honoured to be invited into his lord's sanctum, of course, but the elation was somewhat dampened by Starscream's presence. He kept close to Megatron like a bodyguard, even though Shockwave noticed he had removed his weapons. Or they had been confiscated.  
  
Megatron led him into a kind of ready room, furnished with sleek, functional seating and a table. Megatron set his goblet down on the table and sank into the largest chair – almost another throne. Shockwave hesitated, then took up a seat opposite. Starscream sat in the chair to Megatron's immediate right and crossed his legs.  
  
There was a long, tense silence.  
  
Megatron reclined in his seat and cycled a smooth, deep intake. He shuttered his optics for several seconds, and then finally reopened them and fixed his gaze on Shockwave.  
  
“As I'm sure you have noticed, there has been a change in the command chain,” he said. _Finally_ , Shockwave thought. He'd been afraid Megatron would continue as though Starscream's presence were nothing out of the ordinary. “Starscream has decided to return to us. He is... repentant.” As he said this, Megatron looked at Starscream and extended his hand, almost instinctively, and Shockwave caught the fond look on his face. “Obviously he is no longer in the running for my throne, which is another matter I had hoped to communicate to you through more official channels.” Megatron looked back to Shockwave. “Congratulations. You are my new second in command. I doubt it comes as a surprise, but you deserved to know. I hope that your loyalty and dedication may prove an excellent example to our more wayward Decepticons.” Another sidelong look at Starscream, who actually rolled his optics. Shockwave was having more and more trouble figuring out what was going on.  
  
“I am honoured, naturally, my liege.” Shockwave wondered if he should kneel again. “If I may-... Please, sir, I really feel I must speak with you in private.”  
  
Megatron chuckled. “I know why you're here, Shockwave.” He lifted a hand and stroked his knuckles over the bottom edge of one of Starscream's wings. The seeker's engines purred softly, and the look Starscream gave Shockwave was revoltingly smug – and Shockwave was powerless to do anything about it. He carefully set his goblet on the table to prevent himself from breaking it. “Yes, Starscream has been somewhat tamed...”  
  
“My lord, I really feel-”  
  
“Silence.” There was an edge to Megatron's vocals that Shockwave had only rarely heard directed at him. It chastised him and filled him with shame. “Starscream has been allowed to remain online on the condition that he makes himself useful. He is paying his dues...” Shockwave saw the two mechs' optics meet. He felt like purging his fuel tank. “He is under my supervision and... guidance. The rest of the troops here already understand that to challenge me on this matter is tantamount to treason.” Megatron spoke laconically, as though only half serious, but Shockwave knew better than to try his luck.  
  
“With respect, my lord, have you considered that he may be... and I mean this as no challenge to your wisdom, sir... he may be putting on an elaborate facade in order to win your trust?”  
  
Megatron sighed, and his lip curled slightly. “Of course I have. I know Starscream better than any mech, after all.”  
  
Shockwave tilted his head as his internal comm unit activated. “Be careful what you say in Starscream's presence,” Megatron said, using a secure comm channel – enabling him to speak to Shockwave without Starscream hearing. “His programming has been altered, but it wouldn't do to jog his memory core.”  
  
“Of course, sir,” Shockwave replied, using the same frequency. He thought he understood, now. Starscream's processor was scrambled. He probably had some awareness left, just enough to still be an irritating glitch, but not enough to reassert his real identity. Shockwave let out a slow sigh of relief. Starscream was just the shell, just the frame. Just a drone. Megatron had already assessed the threat – he'd had no cause to worry.  
  
He still couldn't shake his suspicion of the seeker, though. Long hardwired feelings were difficult to delete.  
  
“Now, if that is all cleared up,” Megatron said, his tone noticeably brighter. “Perhaps a toast. To Cybertron's bright future.”  
  
Shockwave saw the wry smile on his leader's face, but the diversion still had the necessary effect – Shockwave began to relax. They raised their goblets in unison, and drank. Shockwave's fuel filter on the lower part of his helm had trouble absorbing the thick oil, as opposed to refined energon, and he put the goblet down again swiftly. Megatron, however, drank deeply.  
  
They sat together late into the cycle. Megatron drank, and Shockwave politely sipped the occasional bit of the rich, Earth fuel. They both relaxed, and after a while even Starscream's presence was forgotten. The seeker sank from his chair to the floor and spent the rest of the evening kneeling at Megatron's feet. Shockwave didn't question it – for the first time, Shockwave felt Starscream had learnt his place.  
  
They discussed Shockwave's ongoing work in Iacon, and Shockwave was able to pass on some useful tidbits of intel he had gathered. Megatron, in turn, spoke about his trials on Earth – he talked at length about his humiliating incarceration, which led Shockwave to believe, with a start, that his leader must trust him wholly in order to be so frank with him. Granted, by this point Megatron was mildly over-charged. Megatron's current schemes, and his plans for the future of both Earth and Cybertron formed central topics, and Shockwave was filled with renewed hope and warmth at the images his lord's words conjured. A bright future for their kind, after millennia of hardship.  
  
Hours later, their conversation reached a lull. The base was silent around them. Their goblets were empty – Shockave was stunned to see that his own fuel had disappeared in addition to Megatron's. The unfamiliar substance had a heady effect on his system, and not one he'd been aware of while he had been drinking.  
  
The lighting in the chamber was soft, the room dark. Their optics lent the purple light a crimson tinge. Shockwave sobered a little when he realised there were still three sets of optics in the room.  
  
Starscream had remained silent the entire time. His expression was sleepy, and he rested his cheek on Megatron's knee. Megatron didn't seem to mind. He saw Shockwave looking at the jet, and set a hand on Starscream's helm. He refreshed his optics slowly. Starscream shuttered his.  
  
“...He still bothers you,” Megatron said.  
  
Shockwave leaned his elbow on the table, holding his helm in his hand. He felt lazy, his frame heavy, drowsy with the nutrient-rich fuel he had imbibed. He saw Megatron stroke Starscream's helm vent with his fingertips.  
  
“It will merely... take some getting used to,” Shockwave managed. Starscream seemed to be regarded and treated as a favoured courtesan rather than a cheap 'facing drone. Surely Megatron could do better than _Starscream_ , though?  
  
“Once I'm assured of his loyalty, I anticipate Starscream will become a valuable asset in battle once more...” Megatron's vocals had a slight lag to them, a sign of his over-charged processor.  
  
“But how can you ever be sure he _is_ loyal?” Shockwave said. The excess charge clogging his system made him bold enough to ask it.  
  
Megatron did not seem offended. “By giving him reason to remain so.”  
  
“...Sir?”  
  
Megatron cycled a short sigh and gestured vaguely with the hand not still stroking the docile seeker's helm. “He can have safety and protection, if he chooses to. Fuel and a soft berth. Along with _other_ benefits...”  
  
Shockwave used their private comm channel to reply, “The old Starscream would never accept such terms.”  
  
“No,” Megatron said aloud. “Nor better ones...” He looked wistful for a moment, but by the time Shockwave had refreshed his optic the expression was gone. He must have imagined it.  
  
“It is fortunate, then,” Shockwave said, “that his coding has been... cleaned up, in this way.” Shockwave spoke aloud, and used the euphemism for Starscream's benefit. Just in case.  
  
“Starscream...” Megatron tilted Starscream's chin up with his fingertips, and the jet looked at his master. “Up.”  
  
Starscream stood. Shockwave observed the fluid grace of his movements. When relaxed, the seeker was beautiful to watch. He had none of the twitchy, awkward tension he exhibited when agitated – his usual state. Megatron pulled the seeker gently into his lap, and Shockwave's claws bit into the tabletop as he watched the two of them kiss. Megatron was gentle with Starscream – he pulled and guided him into place with easy authority, and Starscream followed his lead as a good subordinate should.  
  
Starscream arched his back, and Megatron slid his hand down, following the curve. His fingertips rubbed at the rear seam of Starscream's pelvic panel, and Shockwave paused his intakes – he didn't want to move or make a sound that would stop the scene in front of him. He hated Starscream, but the seeker looked so good draped across his leader's thighs.  
  
Megatron kissed the line of Starscream's cheek, and met Shockwave's optic over the seeker's winged shoulder. His expression was prideful but mild – not gloating or cruel, more like a mech who was pleased to show off and share something he treasured.  
  
Megatron lowered his optics again and nosed against Starscream's helm vent. His fingers pushed at the seam, and Starscream made a soft sound.  
  
“Starscream...”  
  
“Yes sir.” Starscream had lowered his vocals from their usual harsh tone to a sultry purr. The mechanisms in his panel whirred smoothly, and the curved metal slid away to reveal the valve beneath. Shockwave realised he had risen to his feet and was leaning closer. Starscream's valve was small and the same light grey as his thighs, framed by the red of the surrounding armour. Megatron's fingers moved lower and stroked firmly across the soft rim. Starscream hummed and lifted his hips.  
  
Shockwave wanted to say something, but he was still afraid to break the silence. It seemed even Megatron felt the same. He threw Shockwave a heavy look and gave his head a tiny jerk – beckoning Shockwave closer. Shockwave moved, stealthy, wary of startling the captive seeker.  
  
When he stood before Megatron's chair, Shockwave lifted his hands. He was close enough to touch, and his talons hovered above Starscream's gently curving hips. Starscream had one arm draped over Megatron's shoulder, his other curled between his cockpit and Megatron's chest, allowing him to lean his weight upon his leader and keep his aft lifted up.  
  
Shockwave looked to Megatron for guidance, for approval. For permission.  
  
Megatron nodded. Starscream exhaled softly, bucking his aft up as Shockwave rested his hands on Starscream's hips. He held them there, still, for a moment, and then gingerly squeezed. All his fantasies, every glitched-up scenario he'd thought up in his most fevered orbital cycles alone – all of them were good for precisely nothing in that moment. He hated himself for his awkwardness, and told himself it was only because Megatron was there – _Megatron_ – that he was so unsure of himself.  
  
He rubbed Starscream's aft with his thumbs. His spark gave a dark little curl of pleasure when the jet made a high-pitched sound, and he looked down to see small scratches left by his pointed claws.  
  
“Careful,” Megatron said. His rich voice cut through the tension of silence, and stunned Shockwave into obedience. How dare he mark his master's possession? Such disrespect...  
  
“I apologise, my lord...”  
  
Starscream pressed his face into the crook of Megatron's neck and swayed his hips. He didn't seem to mind the scratches, and indeed Shockwave could now see the soft outer rim of his valve glistening with pinkish, translucent lubricant.  
  
Shockwave inched his thumb-tips closer to Starscream's valve, being careful this time, and used them to spread the very outer edge. His optic pulsed a deep, vivid red, and he toyed with the idea of taking a holo-scan to keep for later. Starscream's tight little valve twitched, and he could see the tender, inner rim. Megatron's hands held the tops of Starscream's thighs, and he lifted him, then moved one hand to the small of Starscream's back to make its arch more pronounced.  
  
“My lord...?” Shockwave's spike throbbed within its housing. Was his master really offering Starscream up for him?  
  
Megatron kissed Starscream's throat, and Starscream tilted his head back. His wings fanned slowly back and forth.  
  
Starscream had remained conspicuously quiet throughout this entire meeting. Shockwave wondered if that was his permanent setting now, or had he decided silence was his best strategy in Shockwave's company. Or perhaps Megatron had simply ordered him not to speak.  
  
Megatron had not answered him. Shockwave could only take that as assent. He unsheathed his spike, let it pressurise and grow to its full, hard, length. Well, in truth he could decide its length, given his peculiar ability, but he usually kept it at its default. He nudged the tip of it against Starscream's opening, and his engines gave a deep rumble as Starscream reacted – a gasp, and he looked over his shoulder. He met Shockwave's optic with his own, which were bright scarlet, glowing in the soft light. There was a curl to the corner of his mouth – Shockwave wasn't sure if he was goading him, or simply eager. Perhaps both, knowing Starscream.  
  
The look on Megatron's face was one of warm pride, Shockwave thought. He pulled the jet's thighs open wider with the air of one showing off a prized possession. He then slid his hands back up and used the pads of two fingers to manipulate and gently spread the seeker's valve rim, leaving Shockwave's hands free to grasp Starscream's tiny waist instead.  
  
“Now Shockwave,” Megatron purred, his vocals very low and quiet. His optics were on Starscream now, but his tone was almost businesslike. “I don't normally allow other mechs to share my toys. Even _seeing_ him like this...”  
  
“I understand, sir,” Shockwave said quickly.  
  
“Do you.” Megatron shuttered his optics and kissed and lightly bit at the line of Starscream's cheek.  
  
Shockwave inclined his head. Unable to better control himself, he eased his hips forward. His spike slid slowly into Starscream's valve. He felt Starscream tighten around him, and then the valve seemed to relax, open up, and draw him in deeper. He let out a breathy groan and sank his spike in up to the hilt. When his hips bumped against Starscream's aft he stilled. He held on tightly to Starscream's waist and concentrated on his intakes. His face was close to Megatron's, their bodies almost touching with Starscream pressed between them.  
  
Shockwave shifted, altered his balance on his pedes and, haltingly, placed one of his hands one on the back of the chair above Megatron's shoulder. He wrapped his other arm tightly around Starscream's waist. He couldn't look at Megatron. He offlined his optic and rocked his hips. Starscream cooed beneath him and moved, his body all smooth curves and sinuous, rhythmic motions. His valve was hot around Shockwave's spike, and his internals rippled and pressed against the hard metal.  
  
Shockwave gave a start when he felt a touch to one of his antenna. His optic flared online in a nanosec, only to register Megatron watching him over Starscream's shoulder, his expression even. Shockwave's optic darkened, then, and his antennae angled forward. He placed both hands on the arms of the chair and rose up a little. The new angle pushed him deeper into Starscream, and allowed him to move more easily. He held Megatron's optics now – his leader's gaze was unreadable, intent. Shockwave thrust into the seeker with shallow, steady movements, sliding his spike back and forth and slowly building up a sweet, warm friction. Starscream mewled and panted against Megatron's throat. He held onto the bigger mech's shoulders and kept his knees on either side of Megatron's thighs, his aft up, rocking back to meet Shockwave's thrusts.  
  
In Shockwave's CPU phantom images flitted past. Images of a less wholesome union than this, conjured by his own processor in his frequent daydreams... His spike swelled within Starscream's valve and the seeker made an interesting noise – part yowl and part purr. He pushed against Megatron's shoulders and, when his back was as arched as it could be, moved one leg and then the other so that his toes were on the floor. Shockwave kept his arm around Starscream's waist and ground into him deep, his face close by the side of Starscream's helm.  
  
Megatron watched them for a few beats before rising to his feet. He used his bulk to force Starscream to stumble back, and consequently Shockwave also – they remained connected as Shockwave stepped backward, and Starscream circled his hips like the slagging whore-bot he was.  
  
“I believe,” Megatron purred, crowding the both of them, chest against the swell of Starscream's cockpit glass. “It's time to move this to a more appropriate location.”  
  
“I, ah... “ Shockwave tried to force his vocaliser to obey him. “I couldn't agree more, s- _ah_... sir.”  
  
He reluctantly pulled out of Starscream. He felt a pleasant rush of satisfaction to see the seeker sway, unbalanced, once Shockwave was out of him and had stepped away – Starscream held his hands out as though reaching for him, and his legs and wing-tips trembled.  
  
Megatron held the back of Starscream's helm and pulled his head back. He kissed him hard and pawed at the jet's cockpit. It had never escaped Shockwave's notice that the glass was semi-transparent. Starscream's frame made a pretty curve as he was arched, and when Megatron released him it was only to grab him and lift him to his chest as though he were a slight, weakling femme.  
  
Shockwave was suddenly very conscious of his exposed, hard spike, but Megatron didn't even spare him a glance.  
  
“Follow,” Megatron said as he made his way toward, Shockwave assumed, the berthroom.  
  
Megatron deposited Starscream on the wide, low berth, face-down. Shockwave joined them, very aware that this was _Megatron's_ berthroom...  
  
Megatron grabbed Starscream's ankles and pulled him to the edge of the berth. Starscream stretched out and pushed his aft up.  
  
“Yes,” he hissed. At Megatron's silent prompting, Shockwave crawled onto the berth and moved to Starscream's head. He held Starscream's helm in a similar way to how Megatron had just moments ago. He had intended to guide Starscream to his spike, but in fact the seeker needed no pursuading. The eager little slut found his spike-head and instantly licked over the broad tip, drawing a shudder from Shockwave. Shockwave heard a short, pleased “hm” from Megatron, and he tilted his head back as Starscream took his spike into his throat.  
  
Megatron knelt on the berth between Starscream's legs, hiked Starscream's aft up a little higher, and let his spike extend. He slipped into Starscream's valve and began a slow, hard rhythm that he seemed to know would make the seeker purr.  
  
Starscream curled his claws into the soft foam of the berth and kept his knees wide apart, his wings pushed forward. He couldn't take all that much of Shockwave's spike into his mouth, Shockwave realised, disappointed. Perhaps if he decreased the size... but then, it was so nice to watch the seeker stuffed with the thick appendage, trying to swallow it and choking.  
  
Megatron's engines hummed, and the vibration ran through Starscream's body and into Shockwave's. Shockwave looked up. Megatron's body was curled, and tensed with each forward rock. Starscream's valve made soft, wet sounds each time his leader's spike sank into it. Shockwave's own spike throbbed. He tensed his fingers, one hand gripping Starscream's helm while the other held a wing, and with a great amount of willpower he downsized his spike just enough to be able to slip into Starscream's throat, all the way.  
  
Starscream began to gag and move back, but Megatron leaned over his back and placed one hand over Shockwave's on the seeker's helm. He pushed him down, and Shockwave trembled to feel Starscream's throat open and take him in, to see Megatron forcing him to swallow Shockwave's spike. Megatron glanced up with a small smirk, and Shockwave bucked his hips. Between them, Starscream whimpered and tried to writhe, but he was too tightly pinned, both mouth and valve deeply speared. He could only move back or forward, either way he would be moving onto one of their spikes.  
  
They found a rhythm between them, Shockwave and Megatron, Shockwave happily following Megatron's lead. Shockwave lost himself in the heady, liquid pleasure, the surreal and unexpected union, Megatron's very presence. He moved his hips and fucked the seeker's mouth, first slowly, and then with gradually greater speed. Megatron helped him along by moving Starscream's helm, pushing him down and pulling him back, while Starscream mewled and choked and made the most obscene noises. Megatron ground into Starscream's valve, and his speed seemed to match that he set for Shockwave. They held onto Starscream for balance, grabbing his wings and waist and helm; at some point Shockwave's hands found Megatron's shoulders, and they were both leaning over the lithe mech in between them, close enough for Shockwave to feel Megatron's breath against his shoulder. Megatron kept one hand on Starscream's helm, while the other found Shockwave's antennae again and fondled, leaving Shockwave helpless. Shockwave's thighs were wet with Starscream's oral lubricants; he wondered fleetingly if Megatron's were similarly slicked with fluids leaking from Starscream's valve.  
  
They were both fucking the seeker with unchecked ferocity now, rutting deep and fast, their intakes punctuated with grunts and moans, their processors operating on base coding alone. The charge of an oncoming overload had been building in Shockwave's systems slowly, like a storm, and his frame was tense and desperate, his movements jerky and insistent, aggressive. He didn't realise it, but his vocaliser kept emitting breathy pleas, wordless, short cries almost lost beneath the whirring of their fans. He bucked into Starscream's wet, hot mouth, fucking as deep as he could and relishing every ugly sound the seeker made. He felt slim, long fingers squeeze his thigh – Starscream was holding onto the berth with one hand, but his other crept up between Shockwave's legs. His rhythm became shaky and erratic as Starscream rubbed over his valve while sucking him hard. Shockwave tried to grind down on those fingers whilst keeping up his punishing back-and-forth. Starscream growled and pushed a finger into Shockwave's valve. Shockwave panted, bore down on the slender digit. At the same moment, Megatron leaned in and licked at one of Shockwave's antennae. The combined sensations undid him. He came with a shocked, loud cry, jamming his spike fully into Starscream's mouth and holding him there by the helm – both his hands, and one of Megatron's – and circled his hips to grind down upon the seeker's finger. He leaned into Megatron's touch, and gave a long, raw moan as he pumped his transfluid deep into Starscream's throat.  
  
Shockwave's overload seemed to fade too quickly. He arched his back and gradually slowed his hips. He let go of Starscream's helm and let his arms hang by his sides as he tipped his head back, his optic offlined. He felt Starscream swallow around him, and it made his engines purr to think the seeker was drinking down every last drop of him.  
  
He flicked his optic back on when, an instant later, he felt Starscream's mouth abruptly pulled from his spike, the finger from his valve. Megatron had him by the helm still, and had slipped out of his valve. With hands on Starscream's wings, arms, and thighs, he manhandled the seeked onto his back with his head near Megatron. Shockwave now had a view of the jet's ruined valve – Starscream's legs were sluttishly splayed, and his entrance was a mess of lubricant, the formerly tight hole stretched and fucked to throbbing tenderness by both their spikes. Starscream's spike was extended and hard, but there were smears of transfluid around his hips and abdomen that had to be his. Shockwave wondered how many times he had come without them even noticing.  
  
Megatron was almost gentle as he tilted Starscream's head back. Starscream was pliant and exposed his throat with no complaint, lying spreadeagle on the berth. Megatron rubbed his wet, large spike against Starscream's cheek and swollen lips, and the seeker opened up his mouth and extended his glossa. His chin and cheeks were messy with oral lubricant, and Shockwave noticed the odd trail of his own come which had managed to escape the seeker's lips.  
  
Shockwave shifted onto all-fours and hovered over Starscream so he could watch as Megatron slowly pushed his spike into Starscream's eager mouth, filling the space so recently vacated by Shockwave's own length. Megatron had to kneel with his thighs spread wide in order to slide in deep enough. Shockwave watched the movements of the taut cabling and tense artificial muscles. He reached forward and placed his hand on Starscream's throat.  
  
Megatron sighed, with just a hint of his rich voice, and began to move. Shockwave held Starscream's neck, keeping his head tilted just-so to allow Megatron to repeatedly slide his spike in to the hilt. Condensation made Megatron's armour glisten, and Shockwave wished he had the necessary components to lick it off.  
  
Struck by a sudden whim, Shockwave straddled Starscream, and then looked to Megatron for approval. Megatron gave him a smirk that showed off his fangs, and Shockwave let out a small moan and sank down. Starscream's spike slipped into him easily. He hadn't realised how wet his valve had become, though he supposed it shouldn't surprise him. Starscream moaned around Megatron's spike and seemed to try to say something, but Megatron only fucked his throat a little faster. Shockwave got himself settled on Starscream's length, making sure it pushed against just the right sets of sensors, before beginning to move. He ground back and forth, then in a circular motion, then repeated. He watched Starscream's claws rhythmically tense and dig into the berth. The seeker's hips rocked up into him, pushing his spike deeper, but Shockwave would not allow the pleasure-drone to set the pace. He was focused on his own pleasure, not Starscream's.  
  
Still on a high from his last overload, Shockwave knew he wouldn't last long. He managed to hold out until Megatron overloaded. Megatron grunted and shuttered his optics tightly, baring his teeth, and spilled his transfluid into Starscream's throat just as Shockwave had done. Shockwave watched him, watched his almost pained expression, the way his frame tensed up, and felt the way Starscream's throat worked under his hand and swelled with every one of Megatron's thrusts. Shockwave clamped his thighs tightly against Starscream's hips and his valve tightened sharply as his second overload took him. His hand inadvertantly squeezed Starscream's throat, and the seeker's helm and chest vents hummed to try and compensate. Starscream writhed and twisted under them both, and Shockwave felt the rise of his hips and the throb of his spike, and then the wet warmth of the seeker's transfluid gushing into him.  
  
Shockwave let out a long sigh and sat back. Megatron rocked his hips once more and then drew his spike out of Starscream's mouth, only to rub it against the jet's cheek and vents, wiping off excess lubricant and leaving yet more smears on Starscream's flushed faceplates.  
  
Shockwave realised that the overloads seemed to have rebooted his systems somewhat, and dissipated much of the excess charge brought on by the fuel earlier. He wondered if Megatron was experiencing the same. He wondered if he regretted allowing Shockwave to share his toy like this – to share something this private, also.  
  
Shockwave shuffled back off Starscream and tried to wipe some of the fluids off his spike. He felt an uncomfortable dampness between his legs, and was suddenly mortified that he had allowed Starscream to come inside him. Allspark knew what kind of inferior coding the drone was carrying. He only hoped his own nanites – and a hot solvent shower – would be up to the task of cleansing his system again. He touched his valve gingerly with the tip of a talon and lifted his finger away. A string of glistening transfluid came with it.  
  
“Ugh...” Shockwave wiped his hand on the berth.  
  
“I assure you I take good care of him,” Megatron said. Shockwave froze, but fortunately Megatron only sounded amused. “However, if you're uncomfortable... Starscream, clean him up.”  
  
Starscream shakily pushed himself up on his elbows. His expression was dazed, his face covered in lubricant and come, his lips puffy and tinted. It was a rather appealing image, even Shockwave had to admit. Starscream wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then licked his hand. He refreshed his vocals. When he spoke he sounded hoarse, his vocals staticky. “Yes sir... Lord Megatron.”  
  
Shockwave leaned on his hands and watched Starscream crawl the short distance to him. He appreciated the halting unsteadiness of his movements, the way his wings still trembled. Shockwave spread his legs; he was self-conscious now, as the effects of the oil and his passion eased off, but Megatron had ordered it... Starscream lowered his head. He spent a few moments licking and suckling at Shockwave's shaft before moving lower.  
  
Megatron lay on his side, lazy and languorous in his afterglow, and amused himself by kneading and pinching at Starscream's upturned aft, pushing his fingers into his valve and collecting fluids which he then smeared in abstract, artful patterns all over the seeker's aft, thighs, and thrusters.  
  
Starscream lapped at Shockwave's valve evenly, and gradually eased his glossa a small way inside the flexible rim with each lick. Shockwave began to relax again, and lay back on the berth, legs splayed. He shut off his optic, feeling pleasantly drowsy. Starscream worked on his valve, licking, flicking his glossa inside, then fastening his mouth over the rim and sucking the transfluid out. Shockwave moaned and moved dreamily. He felt peaceful, physically spent, his body hyper-sensitive.  
  
“That's enough,” Megatron said, and Starscream lifted his mouth from Shockwave's valve. Shockwave sighed and gave his hips a small roll. Megatron crawled up the berth to lie beside him. Shockwave wondered what would happen now. Would he be asked to leave?  
  
“Shockwave...” Shockwave didn't speak – he didn't trust himself not to say something inappropriate. Megatron yawned, then stretched. “Recharge here... You will return to Cybertron in the morning.”  
  
“...Yes sir,” Shockwave said. He lay very still. Megatron seemed perfectly relaxed beside him. He could hear the steady rhythm of his intakes.  
  
“...Starscream.” Megatron gave Starscream's shoulder a nudge with his foot. “The berth isn't big enough for three to recharge.”  
  
Silence from the bottom of the berth, and then the berth creaked as Starscream crawled to its edge. “...Should I return to my cell alone, my liege?” Starscream said. Shockwave was too tired to try to gauge his tone.  
  
Megatron drew an intake and pressed his finger and thumb to the front of his helm. “Just... There's room on the floor. Just keep quiet and don't wander off.”  
  
“...Yes _sir_.”  
  
Shockwave didn't sit up to watch. The berth shifted again as Starscream vacated it, then he heard the click of the seeker's heels. It sounded like Starscream had moved a short way from the berth and taken up a place on the floor within the same room. He waited for a further exchange – surely this would be the final straw were this an elaborate act on the seeker's part – but none came. The room gradually settled into silence, but for the gentle sounds of three sets of intakes. Shockwave realised Megatron had slipped into recharge. On the other side of the room, Starscream was quiet. Shockwave stared up at the carved rock ceiling. If Megatron was trusting enough to recharge in the same room as Starscream, then things had seriously changed. He had just experienced first-hand the extent of Starscream's reprogramming, yet he still couldn't let go of his unease.  
  
He put his processor into a light stand-by state, and remained semi-alert for the remainder of the night.


	8. Chapter 8

Shockwave rose early the next morning. Megatron was still in recharge, and no doubt the sky was still dark outside the caves, but Shockwave couldn't rest easy with Starscream in the room. Megatron might feel comfortable letting his guard down, but Shockwave was not so trusting. He would watch his leader's back, as long as he was able.

He sat up and swung his legs off the berth. He moved carefully, so as not to wake Megatron. He could barely believe the events of the previous evening had occurred... but here he was, in Megatron's chambers. He needed to visit a washrack, and his helm ached – the after-effect of the alien fuel Megatron had fed him the night before, which had caused his inhibitions to lower so... happily.

He cradled his head in his claws for a moment, his elbows resting on his knees. The room was silent.

He looked up. Starscream was nowhere to be seen.

Shockwave stood. Instantly on alert, he prowled from the berth-chamber into the ready-room without. Still no sign of the seeker, but Shockwave thought he could hear the slightest movement in the adjoining office. He moved stealthily to the roughly hewn doorway. Starscream was seated in Megatron's chair at the desk, one leg drawn up, apparently at his ease. He was tapping at a large datapad, but Shockwave could not see over his shoulder to see what data he was looking at. He refreshed his vocals.

"Is the old mech awake yet?" Starscream said without turning around.

Shockwave was startled at his casual, easy manner. "Is that any way to speak of your master, slave?" he said. He kept his vocals low.

Starscream glanced back at him; the look he gave was steady, before he looked down and away. "He can't hear me."

"I would have expected this kind of disrespect... _before_ ," Shockwave said. "Did he give you permission to sit at his desk? To use his equipment?"

"What do you think?" Starscream tossed the datapad down. He rose to his feet and faced Shockwave. He leaned his aft and hands against the edge of the desk. His shoulders were squared and his wings high – the very opposite picture of the submissive, silent, and dutiful pet Shockwave had seen kneel at Lord Megatron's feet. "Why should I answer to you, anyway?"

Shockwave folded his arms. His optic remained a steady, impassive crimson. "You were compliant enough last night. Is your programming really so flimsy?"

" _You_ are not my master. I obey _him_ ," Starscream said with a nod toward the berthroom, "not you. I'm not a plaything for the whole army to use. Unless my liege would like that," he added this last comment with a smirk.

"So you're just Lord Megatron's plaything. I see."

Starscream's smirk became a crooked smile. "Now you're getting it. If you're thinking of asking for a freebie..."

"I would never steal from my lord in such a way."

"Of course not." He pushed himself up and perched on the desk with his legs crossed. One of his feet bobbed rhythmically.

Shockwave stepped further into the room. "What were you doing in here?"

"What, you didn't think my duties were restricted to the berthroom, did you?" Starscream's tone was full of disdain.

"What kind of use would a pleasure-bot have beside the obvious?" Shockwave said. "Give me the datapad."

Starscream slowly reached behind him and picked up the object. He held it up, but didn't hand it over. The screen was blank – it had been shut down. "My, my. Was that an order?"

"An order from your superior officer. Now hand it over." He reached for it, but Starscream pulled it back, out of reach. When the seeker spoke his tone was crisp.

"You are not my superior. I answer only to Lord Megatron, as do you. You may be Second in Command of his army, but I am still his right hand."

They stood in tense silence for a moment. Shockwave had more sense than to overstep the mark here. Much as he wanted to bend Starscream over the desk and remind him of their respective places, Megatron was still in the next room. And he probably had just as little claim to those data-files as Starscream did.

Starscream slid off the desk and left the pad on the pile he had no doubt originally picked it out from. He stepped to Shockwave until their chests almost touched, and looked him in the optic. Shockwave studied his face.

"Is this your latest betrayal?" Shockwave asked coolly.

"On the contrary," Starscream answered. "I've never been more loyal." He smiled, and tapped the side of his helm with one slender claw. "It's hard-wired in, remember?"

"Quite." Megatron's rich, smooth voice drew both their optics to the entry door. Starscream sank into a fluid bow without hesitation. Shockwave gathered himself in a couple of astroseconds and bowed also. He realised too late this meant turning his back on Starscream.

"At ease. Starscream, to me."

Starscream straightened and moved to his lord's side. Shockwave watched him and wondered how the jet could move and act with the insouciant grace Shockwave had observed when he'd first arrived, even after the previous evening's degradation. He wondered, then – was it degradation to Starscream? How did the drone, the seeker, think of it? Was he simply doing his duty? Was he having _fun_?

Megatron gave Shockwave a long, searching look. "Shockwave, I hope you are not overstepping yourself. Remember that last night was a privilege that will not be repeated."

"Of course, sir."

"I would also be interested to know why you feel entitled to go through my datafiles."

"Sir! I-"

Megatron held up a hand. "You can explain yourself later. For now, I want some time with my... with Starscream. Go and prepare for your departure."

Shockwave ducked his head. "Yes sir." Defeated for the moment, Shockwave held his shoulders high – though his head down, respectfully bowed – and left his master's chambers.

Alone with Megatron at last, Starscream gave a long and theatrical yawn and sat back down on the desk. Megatron arched an optic ridge.

"Do you think that's behaviour fitting of a drone such as yourself?"

Starscream grudgingly stood again. "Is that all you want, sir? A drone?"

"It's what I have. Heel."

He turned and moved back into the main room. He sat, and beckoned Starscream closer. His face was closed. Starscream gave a short sigh and trotted over. He sank to one knee at Megatron's feet and bowed his head. It wasn't so much the obeisant prostration he displayed as a pleasure-drone, but the respectful deference of a soldier. Megatron narrowed his optics. "Starscream, I hope I don't have to be concerned about you getting above yourself."

Starscream's wings twitched, but the jet kept his optics down. "Lord Megatron, I know my place. At all times... beneath you."

"Naturally," Megatron said with some disdain. He looked away, gazing absently into the shadowy room. He needed to refuel – something clean and light to cleanse his system after that rich oil. To help to clear his head.

"I only meant that I wish to earn my keep, my lord. In any way possible. I told you – I live to serve you, in any capacity."

"That old ambition is showing through," Megatron said, grumpy. Starscream looked up at him with a questioning expression, and Megatron regretted the comment. No need to plant the seeds of doubt in an oblivious and happy drone's helm. He sighed and set a hand on Starscream's helm and gave it a rough stroke. Starscream pulled an almost embarrassed face but didn't swat him away. "It would make sense for you to have some functions other than as my berth-warmer. I never asked for a drone, and never wanted one."

 _What I wanted_ , he thought, _was a competent Second I could count on. But I'll take whatever hand the Allspark saw fit to deal me._

"Whatever my lord's wisdom decides," Starscream said. His voice was soft. Megatron wanted to discuss Shockwave's visit, but held his glossa. His slave was not an appropriate audience or sounding board, and neither were his other subordinates – two grunts and the sneaking femme.

"Hn. Your lord's _wisdom_ needs breakfast. Go and fetch me some fuel, if you want to make yourself so useful. The stores that escaped your gluttony were moved – ask Blitzwing to show you where."

Starscream looked up. Whether he resented the menial task or not, he didn't show it. At least, Megatron didn't think so. He reached out and grasped a wing, coaxing the jet to his feet and pulling him against his body. Starscream placed his hands on the arms of the chair, leaning awkwardly, and Megatron moved his hand to the back of Starscream's helm so he could pull him down for a kiss. He liked kissing Starscream. He liked having Starscream around to kiss. And to 'face, of course.

He mustn't let himself get attached. He mustn't let his guard down... like he already has, numerous times. He was sure there were echoes, at least, of Starscream's original code; today he might be snooping through Megatron's desk, but what might he get it into his processor to try tomorrow? Starscream should go back into his cell, he should be shackled to the wall, gagged and grounded...

Still, wasn't this always the plan? As much of a plan as he had developed since this unforeseen, unlikely, and fortunate turn of events had blind-sided him. He didn't have the resources to keep a pet indefinitely. It was wasteful, impractical, and luxuriant. He was running an army, not a brothel, and keeping a beautiful but highly-strung glorified prostitute fuelled, cared for, and entertained was more than he had the time, energy, or budget for.

He would have to keep Starscream's leash tight, though.

"Stop wasting time." He gave the seeker a push and Starscream tottered to his feet. He drew himself up and dusted himself off. "And clean yourself up while you're gone. You remember the way to the washracks. You're a mess."

"Yes sir..."

"And Starscream?" Starscream was half way to the door, which Megatron unlocked for him using a remote frequency. The jet turned. "What were you doing in my office?"

Starscream gave him an even look, and then smiled. He shrugged. "I booted up early, you were both still in recharge. I was bored."

Megatron met Shockwave again in the central throne room. The other mech was ready to depart, but seemed to be dawdling.

Megatron moved at a leisurely pace toward his throne. Starscream had found a small stash of rust sticks in the stores which he had somehow missed during his initial gluttonous raid, and had presented them to his master with the flourish of a cybercat presenting its owner with a fresh kill.

Megatron stood by the consoles as they hummed and blipped peacefully, and surveyed the various feeds and displays currently up on their viz-screens. The professor kept his head down, working away on a new blueprint Megatron had given him, and Blitzwing worked quietly at a terminal at the far end of the chamber. Blackarachnia and Lugnut were out on recon.

Shockwave appeared silently at his side. Shockwave had a habit of appearing silently.

"Sir," Shockwave began. "Might I make a suggestion?"

Megatron nibbled idly on the end of the rust stick and didn't spare Shockwave a glance. "Suggest away."

"Have you checked his coding, sir? I mean physically... if there has been some alteration, surely it will be visible-"

"Find me a medic who can do that and I'll happily have him examined." Shockwave nodded slowly, guardedly. Megatron watched him out of the corner of his optic. "Blackarachnia has some limited ability, but she's more of a mechanic than a medic. I'm not about to let some ham-fisted amateur go rearranging Starscream's coding. It's probably fragile enough as it is. At best he'd be rendered a mute idiot, at worst we'd have the old Starscream to contend with." _Would that be the worst?_ he wondered. He didn't voice this question.

Shockwave was a tense, terse presence beside him. "...I understand, sir. I'll see what I can do."

Megatron turned to him then, one brow raised. "Will you? Well, I'm glad your schedule on Cybertron is so sparse that you'd have time."

"Sir." Shockwave got the point. It was time for him to leave.

"Your transport is ready. Do not let the Autobots detect you. I will not have you jeopardise my campaign for the sake of your needless concern." _Or your petty jealousy_.

 

*

 

Shockwave insisted on making his way back to his ship on his own. He maintained that a group of Decepticons travelling through the outskirts of the city would attract more attention than one bot alone. In truth, the area was mostly forested, and Shockwave's biggest problem was traversing the planet's unpleasantly organic environment – insects, mud, pollen and spores in his ventilation systems... The whole planet made him feel positively sick.

When he reached the clearing where he had parked the little shuttle, he paused to even out his intakes.

He looked up, and powered up his cannon.

Leaning against his shuttle, looking serene and perky, was Starscream. He had his hands behind his back, and his wings were high. Shockwave kept his weapon online and stalked closer.

"It seems the pet has escaped its chain," he said.

"Oh, don't look so panicked." Starscream pushed off from the side of the shuttle and placed one hand on his hip. He swayed slightly, and leant his weight on one foot. His body curved, his hips prominent. "Lord Megatron sent me to make sure you got away safely."

"I don't believe that for an instant."

Starscream smirked slightly. "Nothing I say will convince you this is true, will it? This..." He gestured vaguely. "That I am what he says I am."

"What you say you are." Shockwave kept his cannon trained on the seeker's head. He should just end it now – Megatron would be angry, but it would be for the best if he saved his life.

Starscream shrugged. "I'm not really a drone. Not in that sense... Real drones can't even string a sentence together that isn't already pre-programmed. But you've heard of this kind of coding, haven't you? You know enough to almost believe... you know it _could_ be true."

That was so, at least. Slave programming, some called it, though that was an outmoded term. As outmoded as the programming itself. A mech could be made to follow commands, to submit to authority. It was how much of ancient Cybertron's great civilisation was built. Conquered groups were reformatted with it, but most often a bot came straight off the assembly line with it installed and ready to run. It was just another role among thousands of pre-programmed vocations, personalities, factions; Cybertronian culture was based on this idea. The younger Decepticons – and Shockwave was certain Autobots as well – were minted with factional coding already embedded in their systems. It made the business of war a whole lot easier.

Starscream's particular angle, however, was that he was – or professed to be – a pleasure-bot. Most of these _were_ drones: non- or barely-sentient machines with pretty frames but very simple processors. They ran on simple, pre-programmed routines, and were not capable of independent thought the way a real Cybertronian was. Such automatons had largely replaced Cybertron's conscious slaves – for construction, cannon-fodder, and for pleasure.

"No... you're no drone. You would never speak so disrespectfully if you were. So the question is..." He was close to Starscream now, only a couple of paces away. The jet was unarmed, Shockwave's cannon was pointed at his helm. "What _are_ you?"

"I'm whatever he wants me to be. Whatever he needs me to be."

"He doesn't _need_ you."

"Oh, I think he does." Starscream's gaze was somehow icy and heated at the same time. He took two slinky steps forward and placed a hand on the barrel of Shockwave's cannon. The jet's vocals had dipped to a purr again – the same soft tone he had used last night. Shockwave's frame trembled at the recollection of Starscream bent over Megatron's lap, his valve open for him; of Starscream on his knees and Shockwave's spike jammed deep in his mouth. What was he so afraid of? Starscream was just a glorified whore now, he would never be a danger again. He had been tamed.

He didn't shoot, not even when Starscream stepped close enough for his breath to warm one of Shockwave's antennae. The seeker spoke against his audio, "And what do _you_ want me to be?"

Shockwave hissed. He slammed his forearm into Starscream's chest and pushed him back until his wings hit the hull of the ship. Starscream gasped and clutched onto Shockwave's arm, but then he began to laugh. "You're so easy to read, even without a face," he said. "Really, I could help you... Megatron won't have you, but I could be second best."

"I thought you didn't settle for being second best."

"You're right..." Starscream pushed back against Shockwave's hold, and Shockwave realised that the seeker was just as strong as he. Starscream licked Shockwave's antenna and then bit into the base. Shockwave's sensornet crackled and he was stunned into immobility for a blazing, intense astrosecond. "I don't."

In an instant their positions were reversed, and Shockwave found himself pressed against the shuttle with Starscream's leg pressed between his thighs. He gripped the seeker's hips and scratched with his claws. He didn't know if he was trying to fight him off or encourage him.

"You're _nothing_! You're not worthy of his-"

"His what?" Starscream's hands were everywhere, and Shockwave grabbed and scraped his wings just to try to even the score. Starscream sank to one knee and Shockwave held his wingtips. "His berth? His spike?" Starscream licked and bit at Shockwave's abdomen and hips. Shockwave unsheathed and extended his spike and held Starscream's helm with one hand. Starscream turned his head and nipped at Shockwave's wrist. There was a sneer on his face. "His respect?" He licked from the base of Shockwave's spike to the tip, lewdly. He took hold of both of Shockwave's wrists, and Shockwave was startled at the strength and hardness of his grip. He'd almost forgotten Starscream had been a soldier. He had probably been a good one once.

"His love?" Starscream dipped his head and pressed between Shockwave's legs. He licked hungrily at Shockwave's valve, and the older mech finally snapped out of his fevered daze. He wrenched his hands free and forced Starscream to the grassy floor.

He straddled Starscream's chest, keeping the jet's arms pinned to his sides with his thighs and knees. He held Starscream's helm and let the pointed tip of his claw prick into the narrow crack in the centre of Starscream's forehead.

Starscream grunted. He turned his head, then snapped at Shockwave's fingers. "You're getting organic muck in my back seams."

"Do you expect an apology?" Shockwave dug the point of his thumb deeper into the crack, and Starscream snarled. He clawed Shockwave's thighs. Shockwave struck him. Starscream's head snapped to the side, his cheek in the dirt. Shockwave saw the pointed, silvery tip of the seeker's glossa run over a fang. "You belong down there," Shockwave said. His vocals were crisp, though his frame vibrated with suppressed tension. "That is what _I_ expect. For you to acknowledge your betters-"

"And know my place?" Starscream started to sit up but Shockwave pushed him down, pressing his hand against Starscream's cheek. Starscream's hands gripped and kneaded at Shockwave's slender hips, and Shockwave felt the strength in them. "Funny, Lord Megatron was just talking about that... The thing is..."

Starscream twisted his head, and Shockwave wrenched his hand back to avoid the snapping jaws. The seeker bucked sharply. His hands squeezed Shockwave's hips. Shockwave's equilibrium sensors reeled, and suddenly he was on his back. Starscream pressed one knee against his chest and looked down at him.

"My place is just the same as yours."

Starscream gave him a dark look and then rose to his feet. He stepped backward with lingering steps. Seething, Shockwave scrambled after him, but the seeker danced away . A beat later he had disappeared into Shockwave's shuttle.

 _What is he_...? Shockwave made sure his cannon was still online before he followed.

He needn't have worried, he decided, when he reached the bridge. Starscream was draped over the command chair with one leg hooked over the seat's arm and his pelvic armour open. He was playing with his valve with the pads of two fingers, though his spike was out and hard. Shockwave felt a shiver as he remembered having that length sliding and grinding inside him.

"What are you doing?" Shockwave asked. He remained in the doorway, his frame tense, back straight. He noticed Starscream was getting mud and leaves on the clean chair.

"Just relaxing," Starscream said. He yawned theatrically, to emphasise his point. He moved his hand from his valve to his spike and stroked. He wiped the mud off his face with the back of his free hand. "Organic slag... urgh."

"Slag... quite." Shockwave moved onto the bridge. He went to the control panel and set a course for Cybertron that would avoid the main Autobot patrols. He turned back to Starscream. "I doubt Lord Megatron would look kindly on my taking you home as a stowaway," he said.

Starscream snickered. "Why, had the thought crossed your processor? Keep me as your pet instead? Tsk... I think those Autobots might notice me." Shockwave was silent. "What's that? My place is with him?"

Shockwave lunged forward, claws going for Starscream's throat. Starscream was too quick. He grabbed Shockwave's wrist and used his momentum to pull him close and off-balance. Face to face, Starscream whispered into Shockwave's audio, "You go back to Cybertron. I'll stay here... by his right hand." He licked Shockwave's antenna. "Don't worry, I'm only keeping _your_ place warm for you, remember?"

Shockwave pressed Starscream back with his hands on the seeker's wings. Starscream smirked and hooked his legs over the arms of the chair. His thighs were splayed wide and his valve on show.

"Wanna know a secret?"

Shockwave didn't. He wished Starscream would mute it, really, so he could-... could what? He wasn't sure what he wanted to do, but he did know that his own valve tingled and throbbed, and his spike was pushing painfully against its covering. He cycled in a long intake, held it for a few beats, and let it go. Starscream's optics were mischievous and bright. He was baiting him, he was being played. Starscream wanted a rise out of him, but by the Allspark, that was what he was going to get... Shockwave opened his panel.

He clawed at Starscream's wings and the seeker arched – not in pain, to Shockwave's irritation.

"I'll, mm... I'll tell you," Starscream purred. His hands were sliding all over Shockwave's chassis now. He used his palms and fingertips, and was careful with the claws. Was this how he touched Megatron? Shockwave pushed forward and rubbed his spike against that open valve. "This is how-"

"Shut up," Shockwave hissed. "I didn't ask you. We'll see where _your_ place is, drone."

Starscream laughed. "That's fighting talk-"

Shockave slapped him. Something had snapped inside him, something dark, something that he only knew from the times he was alone with only his mind and his hand. He grasped Starscream's wing and pulled him forward.

"I'll have _less_ talk from you, drone," he said coldly. He pushed Starscream's helm down, and forced his spike into the jet's mouth instead of his valve. Starscream tried to fight for a moment before he allowed Shockwave his will. He sank down, and after a beat he slid from the seat and onto his knees instead. "Better," Shockwave said in icy approval. He ground into the seeker's hungry throat for several kliks. Starscream's hands caressed him, though his touches were firm and aggressive, scratching, kneading, and pinching. Shockwave swatted the seeker's hands away, and then gripped his wrists. Starscream squirmed. The position was awkward, but Shockwave transferred both Starscream's wrists to one hand, and used the other to hold the seeker's helm and force him to take his spike. He swelled it gradually, and moaned to feel the jet's throat work around him, to hear the choking, gagging sounds, feel the jet try to pull away.

When he was about to come, Shockwave pulled out and wrestled the jet to the ground. He straddled Starscream's aft and forced the seeker down with his own weight. Starscream bucked under him, his aft rubbing and grinding against Shockwave's engorged, wet spike. Shockwave suppressed a groan, and a shiver of desire rippled through him. He roughly grabbed at the seeker's frame and got his legs spread, shifting so his own were on the inside of the jet's sleek thighs. For a few kliks he just rubbed his spike against that sweet aft, against the drone's well-used valve.

"Come on then, big mech," Starscream said. His tone was disdainful, and Shockwave saw the sneer on his face even before he managed to turn his head enough for their optics to meet. "You want to be in charge? Let's see how well you do."

"I told you not to talk," Shockwave said. His own vocals were strained. He reached down and spread Starscream's valve wide with his claws. Starscream yowled. Shockwave hissed in satisfaction and sank his spike into the seeker. It was a stretch, but Shockwave fought past the resistance Starscream's internals gave him – once inside, he expanded his spike's length and width even more, by small increments, and Starscream wailed and writhed. The poor drone felt so tight, stretched so wide around him.

He didn't pause – he immediately started to drill the jet's valve with a fast rhythm, his movements jerky and urgent. Starscream seemed to fight against him, though it may have simply been the result of the stretch, the hard penetration, the inevitable pain of such a large intrusion. The pleasure it gave Shockwave was savage and dark. It made Shockwave's thrusts grow more aggressive and his hold on the seeker harder, looking to hurt. He wasn't doing this for _Starscream's_ pleasure, only his own. The jet was a worthless drone, and even now he was whining and clawing, acting above himself. Acting as though he _deserved_ to be anything more than used.

He pressed down on the back of Starscream's helm and ground his face into the floor. Starscream kicked and squirmed in protest, growling, wings flicking back and forth. He felt Starscream's valve grip him – rippling around his spike as though in a frantic caress. He jammed his spike in deep and ground to relish that tightness. He lay on top of the shivering jet and wrapped one arm tightly around his waist as he continued to rut. His other hand found Starscream's mouth, and he pressed his claws inside, gagging the jet on his talons. The sounds Starscream was making – growls of defiance and whines of pain/pleasure – had his higher functions shutting down. He was operating on base-coding again, all thoughts of loyalty to his leader fled, his processor focused only on the drone, the seeker, the commander, the whore. When he came it was savage – his claws cut rents in Starscream's hips, and his spike hammered so hard and fast into the jet's valve that he split the rim of the little hole and made it bleed. He poured his transfluid into the drone deeply, filling him up until he leaked.

It knocked him out for several kliks, although he remained online. He slumped heavily over the prone jet and just lay there, spike still deep inside, as the aftershocks of his overload shook him.

Starscream was blessedly silent. He suckled on Shockwave's claws gently, though Shockwave must have cut him.

Shockwave groaned. He pushed himself up on shaky arms and slid his spike out from Starscream's valve. He knelt back and looked down at the seeker sprawled on the floor, armour all scuffed up, valve widely stretched and sloppy.

He sat back with a thump and felt his back hit the captain's chair. His intakes were still rapid and deep, and there was a disconcerting wheezing rattle to them. He must be getting old, he thought. He glanced at his hands. The claws of both hands were smeared pink with energon. He looked back at the seeker.

Starscream shifted only very slightly at first. His wings were low, pushed back, but as Shockwave watched he seemed to relax. He rolled his shoulders, and the wings angled higher. He watched as the seeker pushed himself slowly up onto all fours, and then onto his knees facing him. His lip was torn and bleeding energon. He might have nicked his glossa too – it flicked out for an instant and licked up some of the welling liquid. His movements were languid, and his attitude seemed a degree less subservient than he wanted or expected. He wondered if the seeker had overloaded too.

Starscream was watching him, and Shockwave began to feel awkward. What right did a drone have to look at his better like that? So... smug? Especially after that treatment. Shockwave became very aware of the state _he_ was in – smears of red paint marring his clean paint-job, spike out and wet and over-sized, a heat shimmer surrounding him like an aura. His intakes were slowing but were still ragged, and the echoes of his overload still racked his system in pleasant jolts and spasms. Starscream, on the other hand, appeared the picture of control. Even in his dazed state Shockwave noticed the reversal.

Starscream wiped a smear of energon from his lip with his thumb and licked it off thoughtfully. Then he drew in a slow intake and stretched. Shockwave watched his back arch and his wing-tips flicker. He let out the breath in a theatrical sigh. He followed this up with a yawn.

"That was nice," Starscream said.

Shockwave stared at him. Starscream tilted his head and gave him a sleepy smile. He pushed himself onto all fours and crawled toward him. Shockwave could see lubricant, transfluid, and energon sliding down his inner thighs, but he didn't seem to be in discomfort. Shockwave's anger was blanketed and dampened by incomprehension.

Starscream knelt between Shockwave's thighs and caressed his antennae. That made it even harder to think, and he gave a soft moan.

"Well," Starscream purred. "Have I convinced you yet?"

He rose to his feet. Shockwave watched his sweet curves, watched the way he swayed his bleeding, scratched-up hips.

"Even the mighty, icy Shockwave can't resist me. What hope does Megatron have?"

He turned and walked to the control console. When he started tapping glyphs and buttons Shockwave snapped to attention at last.

"What are you doing?" He started to push himself to his feet, but the next thing he knew his head was ringing, the result of a quick and heavy blow to the helm. Another kick to the face and his optic cracked, and a third, this time to his sensitive antenna, had him blacking out. In stasis, he slumped against the captain's chair, his damaged optic black and blind.

 

*

 

"Where have you been?" Megatron said as Starscream slunk into the throne room. He had been absorbed in his work for several joors and had not thought to keep an optic on his pet. He had left Starscream in his chambers after Shockwave had departed. The seeker's unique energy signal, coupled with the tachyon emitter, meant Starscream was not the easiest bot to keeps tabs on anyway. A problem he planned to remedy soon.

He glanced up. Starscream's manner was relaxed, his gait fluid. Had Starscream always swayed his hips like that, held his wings like that? Megatron wasn't sure how much of Starscream's behaviour was the consequence of his reprogramming, and how much had always been there, unnoticed.

"I spent some time in the washracks, my lord," Starscream said casually.

"I wasn't aware I had left my chambers unlocked."

Starscream shrugged. "Lucky I didn't fly away then, isn't it?"

Megatron looked at him properly. He was exceptionally shiny and clean – more so than when he had left him that morning. He had definitely cleaned himself up, and well. He beckoned him closer, and Starscream dutifully approached and perched on the arm of his chair. Megatron looped his arm around the seeker's waist and held him against him.

"Yes," he said. "Lucky you didn't."


	9. Chapter 9

“Starscream.”  
  
“Yes, my lord?” Starscream stretched out on the berth, undulating and arching his body in a luxuriant, sensual display. He'd taken up residence on Megatron's berth for most of the cycle.   
  
It was about an Earth week since Shockwave's departure. Megatron was oddly happy to have him gone – apart from the risk involved in “Longarm Prime” being missing from his post, there was also the selfish pleasure of having Starscream all to himself again.  
  
Starscream seemed pleased too. Ever since Shockwave took his leave the seeker had walked with an extra bounce in his step and a smug quality to his already smirky smile.   
  
“I have something for you, ” Megatron said. “Kneel.”  
  
“Sir...?” Starscream hesitated for a nanoklik before slithering off the berth and strutting to Megatron's feet. He sank fluidly to his knees and looked up at his master.   
  
Megatron paced slowly around the seeker and watched him out of the corner of his optic. Starscream remained still and kneeling, his expression expectant but serene. He looked straight ahead now, and kept his frame relaxed, his hands resting lightly on his thighs. Megatron stopped behind him. He pulled an object from his personal subspace pocket.   
  
“Hold still.” He saw Starscream's wings tense as the mechanisms in his shoulders tightened and bunched, but Starscream didn't move beyond that. Megatron leaned down and took gentle hold of Starscream's right arm. He lifted his hand, and reverently placed a heavy, cold cuff around Starscream's wrist.   
  
Starscream's back straightened and his wings dipped, and Megatron thought he felt a crackle in the seeker's energy field. The jet remained silent as Megatron clicked the locking mechanism into place. He stood straight and stepped around to the seeker's front to look at him.   
  
Starscream met his optics. Megatron folded his arms.   
  
Slowly, Starscream brought his hand up and felt at the smooth curve of the cuff with his fingertips. He tilted his head, staring at it.  
  
Seeing the curiosity and confusion in Starscream's optics, Megatron took pity on him: “It's a little something I had the professor build, using my own initial design, of course. Up, let me show you.” He held out his hand and Starscream took it. Megatron helped Starscream to his feet and led him across the room to where a large, dark mirror was affixed to a smoothed section of the wall.

  
Starscream stood in front of Megatron, with the warlord's hands warm and heavy on his shoulders. He looked at his reflection, and Megatron was caught between trying to analyse his expression – was it pleasure or shock? - and admiring the way the trinket looked on him.   
  
It was smooth, dark grey, matte metal, darker than Megatron's armour but not as dark as Starscream's helm and gauntlets. In the centre was an engraved Decepticon symbol. There was no further ornament, and it fitted snugly and sleekly around Starscream's wrist, visible without being obtrusive. Within the slim metal band ran a hoop of fine circuitry that would allow Megatron to track Starscream's every movement, so he would always know his pet's location.   
  
“Take it as a gift,” Megatron said. He circled his hand around the cuff, lifting Starscream's hand gently. He liked the way his hand fitted around the seeker's wrist, liked the feel of the new, smooth metal. He set his other hand against the brand on one of Starscream's wings. He leaned in close, his cheek brushing Starscream's audio. “How does it look?”  
  
Starscream cycled a deep, soft breath. “It's beautiful.”  
  
“It's a symbol.” Megatron's other arm twined around Starscream's waist and pulled him flush against his body. The seeker was cool to the touch, but as he slid his hand down over Starscream's abdomen and lower, he felt the warmth radiating from beneath his armour. He slipped his hand between Starscream's legs. Starscream arched slightly, but otherwise did not move. “Of who you belong to.”  
  
“I always belonged to you, Me-... My lord.”  
  
Megatron ran one hand down the top of a wing while his other rubbed hard against the seeker's panel. “And of your function.”  
  
Starscream sighed and dimmed his optics. He turned his head and nuzzled into Megatron's cheek. The old mech caught his mouth in a kiss that burned.   
  
“My function,” Starscream murmured against Megatron's lips. Megatron turned him and pushed him back against the dark mirror. He kissed him again, long and deep. He ran his hands over his wings, his sides, and one slid down his arm to wrap once again around the cuff. He guided Starscream's hands up and his arms around his neck. Starscream obeyed silently. He undulated his body, and Megatron's hands clawed down his back. He kneaded and pulled at Starscream's aft, and pushed his hips against the sleeker mech's.  
  
“Open for me,” Megatron growled. Starscream did, and Megatron kicked the jet's feet apart and slid his hands down over the pert aft and between his thighs, fingertips touching and rubbing the hot, moist rim of Starscream's valve. Starscream kneaded his shoulders. Megatron lifted his head and looked into his pet's optics. The expression there was intense, hungry for... something. His cheeks were flushed, though, and his lips glistened. His optics were bright. He kissed him, and felt Starscream kiss him back. Their glossas slid together, and for several kliks there was nothing but the soft, slippery heat of Starscream's mouth and the hard warmth of his frame, pressed and rubbing against Megatron's. The room was silent, and Megatron let his world narrow to these things only, this mech alone.   
  
When at last he pulled away, Starscream tried to follow him as if in a daze. Megatron licked his cheek and bit at one of the vents on his helm. Megatron lifted his hand and caressed the top of one wing. Then he tightened his grip and pushed. Starscream gave a small yelp as he sank clumsily to the floor. Megatron unsheathed his spike and rubbed it against Starscream's cheek. Starscream opened his mouth and Megatron held his helm while he slid his long, heavy spike over the jet's lips.

  
He used two fingers to open Starscream's mouth wider, and then pushed the head of his spike inside. Starscream shuttered his optics worshipfully and let his master slowly fuck his throat for a few kliks. Megatron kept his hand on the back of Starscream's head and moved his hips, and all Starscream had to do was open wide and suck. Megatron growled and his spark grew hot and swollen watching his slave take it so easily, so eagerly. Starscream moaned as Megatron went deep, and the little choking sounds the jet made kept Megatron's spike hard and thick.  
  
When he was good and worked up, Megatron let go of Starscream's helm and pulled out. He stepped back and gave Starscream a push. The seeker slumped, oral lubricant dripping from his lips, his hands on the floor to support himself.   
  
Megatron backed up to the berth. He sat down and kept his thighs wide, his spike standing stiff between them, his valve tight and wet.   
  
“To me,” he said, and beckoned with one finger.  
  
Starscream swallowed, licked his lips, and swallowed again. Then he crawled to the berth and knelt between Megatron's legs. Megatron reached down and grabbed his jaw. He pulled him up into a hard kiss.   
  
“Good...” He pulled Starscream up bodily and threw him onto the berth. Starscream started to push himself onto all-fours, but Megatron slung his body over his and pressed him down before he could. He raked his fingers over Starscream's wings. He reached down again, pulled Starscream's legs wide apart whilst keeping the seeker pinned face-down with his weight. One hand slid under Starscream's abdomen and between the jet's legs, where he used two fingers to spread the outer folds of the little valve as wide as he could. Starscream sighed and arched up against him. Megatron's spark warmed to see the seeker's continued obedience and loyalty.   
  
He rubbed his spike against the curve of Starscream's aft for a while. He kept his body pressed tight against the seeker's, both revelling and finding comfort in the jet's warmth and solidity. He rocked against him, and pressed his face against Starscream's neck. He inhaled Starscream's scent and shuttered his optics. Starscream murmured something, his vocals soft. Megatron groaned and slipped into him. He heard Starscream's quick, soft intake, and felt him let it out again – a slow, sweet sigh that had the tension easing out of him and his frame going supple and pliant beneath Megatron. The older mech moved his hands up the seeker's frame, stroking in heavy sweeps up and under his body. His fingertips, pressed between Starscream and the berth, brushed the outer edges of Starscream's cockpit. He nuzzled the side of Starscream's helm and bit the vent, then tightened his grip, wrapping his arms across Starscream's chest and holding him tight against him. He ground into him like that, and Starscream hissed and mumbled words Megatron couldn't catch.   
  
It was sweet, powerful, and heady. Megatron lost himself in the softness and heat, his spark buoyed by pride and desire. This mech was his.

  
After several kliks, he pushed himself up. His spike remained inside Starscream's valve, but he leaned up on his arms and looked down. Starscream's back was subtly curved, and the metal shone with condensation. Starscream arched and pushed his hips up and back, grinding onto Megatron's spike and making the planes of his back and shoulders flex. Megatron bit his lip and sucked on it as he watched. He rolled his hips slowly, and his optics tracked his spike sliding into, and out of, the seeker's supple valve. Starscream bucked his hips once, unthinking. Megatron glanced at his face – his cheek was pressed to the berth and his faceplates were tinted. His optics were shuttered, but now he opened them and started to twist around to see why Megatron had changed the pace. Megatron placed his hand on the small of Starscream's back and pushed him down. Starscream made a small sound but let himself be pinned. Megatron's engines gave a rumbling purr and he put his other hand between Starscream's wings. He leaned over the jet and started to move .  
  
Starscream moaned and slid his thighs wider apart. His valve was slippery, hot and tight, and seemed to shiver with every tremor of his body. Megatron's hand slid down and over Starscream's aft. His thumb rubbed at the tiny waste port a little way behind his valve, and Starscream sucked in a sharp intake. Megatron kept up the steady rocking of his hips and moved his thumb in a circle over the port, applying a gentle, but unyielding pressure. The rim was tight but supple, made of the same kind of flexible material as the jet's valve. Starscream mumbled something, and his valve gripped Megatron tighter, and the little port flexed and quivered. Megatron clawed down Starscream's back with his free hand, making the seeker hiss and arch sharply. He altered his position and moved Starscream so he was better placed – his legs wider, his aft pulled up higher – and pushed his thumb past the little port's first, outer rim. He only went to the first knuckle, but Starscream's reaction was enough. The broken, breathy cry went straight to Megatron's spike. He bared his teeth in a grin and pressed his forearm across Starscream's shoulders, leaning heavily and keeping him down. His hips rocked, his spike pushing in deep with every fluid, grinding thrust. He moved his thumb in tiny circles that had Starscream whimpering. He felt the little port constrict in rapid pulses, quivering as the rim was gently stretched. Megatron hummed low and his engines rumbled. He slid his thumb out and rubbed the hole as it trembled and closed up, them he reached down between their legs. He used his thumb and fingers to play with Starscream's valve, getting lubricant smeared over his fingers, before carefully easing his thumb inside, alongside his spike. Starscream growled and his frame undulated beneath Megatron's. Megatron bit at the back of his neck to keep him subdued. When his thumb and fingers were nicely coated in lubricant he returned his attention to Starscream's aft.   
  
Starscream squirmed, and his hands reached behind him, his claw-tips lightly scratching Megatron's armour where they touched. Megatron nipped them and pushed himself up again. Without speaking, he grasped both Starscream's wrists and pulled them above the seeker's head. He held them both in one strong hand and kept them pinned. He gave the jet's aft a swat, then used his knees to keep Starscream's thighs wide. He gave a couple of sharper thrusts, jamming his spike deep into Starscream's valve and feeling trickles of warm lubricant leak from the stretched rim and dribble around the base of his spike and down his own thighs. Starscream keened. He pressed his face to the berth, and Megatron saw his wings shiver and then, slowly, push forward.

  
Megatron smiled an asymmetric smile. He slowed his hips, circling deeply and luxuriantly, and pushed his thumb back into the seeker's aft. This time he didn't stop at the first knuckle, but kept up a steady pressure until he had slid it's length entirely inside the tiny port. He heard Starscream cycling deep intakes, and felt his internals twitch and tighten. His spike pulsed, and he had to hold himself back from an overload. He held his frame tense and still for half a klik until he regained his control. Then he adjusted his hold on Starscream's wrists, and began to thrust again. He set a slightly faster timing with his hips, and gently moved his thumb to complement – pushing in when his spike slid back, withdrawing when he thrust his spike in deep. Starscream moaned and shuddered sweetly beneath him. Condensation beaded on Megatron's armour. His own valve was slick and throbbing, and his spark pulsed strongly in his chest.   
  
Starscream's body gradually relaxed, beautiful to see and to know. Megatron replaced his thumb with a single finger, then two. Starscream arched his back for him. He turned his head, and his optics met Megatron's just before the seeker gasped and yowled in overload.   
  
Megatron pulled his fingers out and curled over Starscream's back. He held Starscream's wrists with both hands and pressed his chest to his back so he could feel every shiver and twist of the seeker's frame. Starscream moaned and kicked, and his long claws flexed and grabbed onto the berth. Megatron hissed and bit the angled side of Starscream's helm. With a sigh of completion he allowed himself to come at last.   
  
Afterwards, Megatron lay half atop Starscream's frame and kept his hand around the seeker's wrist. Starscream was no longer restrained, and he sprawled, relaxed, cockpit-down, across his leader's berth. Megatron's optics were partly shuttered, and his fingers idly rubbed at the smooth cuff. Startscream's intakes gradually evened out, then slowed, telling Megatron he had begun to doze. He curled around him, careful of the pretty wings. He let the steady rhythm of both their intakes lull him, together with the gentle warmth of Starscream's body beneath his own. He leant his cheek on Starscream's helm and kept his optics hazily focused on the cuff until, eventually, recharge took him.


	10. Chapter 10

When Megatron awoke Starscream was no longer beside him. His optics lifted and immediately found the seeker in the chair across the room. His legs were crossed and his arms rested on the chair's. He was watching him.   
  
When Starscream met his optics, the seeker linked his talons. The cuff glinted darkly on Starscream's wrist.   
  
“Good morning,” Starscream said.   
  
Megatron sat up. His frame felt heavy with the echoes of his stasis, but his processor was alert. Starscream, however, made no move other than to unlink his fingers and gaze absently at the cuff. His optics flicked back to Megatron and he said, “Can I get you anything, my lord?”  
  
“How long have you been awake?” Megatron said clumsily.   
  
Starscream rose from the chair and crossed the room. He knelt by the berth and ducked his head in deference. “Not long, my lord.”  
  
Megatron nodded. He swung his legs around slowly and set his feet on the floor. He didn't stand. After a couple of breaths, he set his hand on Starscream's bowed head. The seeker's wings perked up just a fraction. Starscream was so easy to read.   
  
“Blitzwing keeps a stock of light energon in the stores,” he said. He could track Starscream's movements on his internal HUD, thanks to the cuff he'd had the professor build, so he'd no reason to worry about him getting up to any mischief.   
  
“I'll fetch some for you immediately, sir.” Starscream's vocals were soft. Megatron put two fingers under his chin and tilted his head up. Starscream kept his optics lowered for a moment before gazing up openly. Megatron searched his expression for some hint of deceit. He found none.   
  
“...Good. Do it.”  
  
“At once, lord.” Starscream rose, backed up a few paces, then turned and left the room. Megatron could no longer remember when or if he locked his chamber door. He leaned forward and rested his chin on his hand.   
  
Starscream returned within a few kliks. Megatron hadn't moved. He finally lifted his head as Starscream approached the berth. The seeker held a small round tray with one hand, and as he sank once again to his knees he held this out for his master. On it were two cubes of a light, filtered oil imbued with nutritional additives, and a square plate of semi-sweet energon goodies. Megatron shutterblinked, impressed. He shouldn't be so surprised. Not by now.

  
“Good...” he murmured, and he thought he saw the corners of Starscream's mouth quirk in a very slight smile. Starscream remained on his knees at Megatron's feet as the older mech picked one of the cubes and sipped. The fuel had a fresh taste and light texture, perfect for a mech just out of recharge. Megatron shuttered his optics and cycled a deep breath. He felt relaxed.   
  
He looked down at Starscream. “Two cubes?”  
  
“They're both for you, lord,” Starscream said quickly.  
  
Megatron was silent. He took the tray from Starscream and set it carefully on the berth beside him. He guided Starscream closer, and the seeker knelt up to meet him. Megatron cradled the back of Starscream's helm with one hand, and Starscream tipped his head back. Megatron brought the cube to Starscream's lips. Starscream opened his mouth, and Megatron saw the tip of his glossa flick out for just a moment. He felt a swell of pride in his spark.  
  
As Starscream was allowed his first taste of the fuel, the chamber was suddenly flooded with sound – the jarring, abrasive klaxon of the intruder alarm.   
  
Megatron's fingers tightened on the cube hard enough for cracks to appear. Oil leaked from them in small trickles, and smeared on Starscream's lips and chin. Starscream looked up at him with round optics. Megatron grit his teeth.  
  
 _If that's that Allspark-cursed spiderbot again...!_  
  
He cycled another deep breath. Then he set the cube on the tray and stroked Starscream's head in apology. He stood and stepped around the jet. Before he reached the door the ground shook. One of the oil cubes tipped over and spilled.  
  
“Lord Megatron?” Megatron had stumbled but hadn't come close to falling. Even so, Starscream was at his side offering his support, and somehow Megatron's arm was across his shoulders.   
  
“We're under attack,” he said curtly. “They must have ignited some of the energon store.”  
  
He hit the keypad to make the door open. He didn't realise until he was out in the hallway that Starscream was still at his side, and that he had begun to lean on him. The seeker's wings twitched as Megatron let go and stood straight.   
  
The lair was on emergency lighting. The dim violet strips flickered as Megatron strode through the hallways.   
  
The throne-room, when he reached it, was in chaos. The air was thick with fumes his filtration systems told him were toxic, and half the room was smouldering. He wafted some of the smoke away from his face and scanned the chamber for the enemy. He found none.   
  
Instead he found Lugnut spluttering and cursing near one of the flaming computer terminals, and the Professor possibly offline – dead – nearby. He nudged the small organic with his toe.  
  
“Lugnut, report.”  
  
“Lord Megatron! Ah, my apologies, oh wise and noble-”  
  
“Yes, yes,” Megatron cut him short with a wave of his hand. He coughed. His throat was getting sore already, and he hadn't the patience to wait through Lugnut's usual obeisant praise. “What _happened_?”

  
“The Professor was attempting to harness the power held within one of the recovered Allspark fragments, my lord,” Lugnut said. He bowed. “Unfortunately, the experiment was not a success.”  
  
“So I can see.” Megatron glanced around, narrowing his optics against the caustic smoke. His armour itched, and his vents were beginning to strain. “Get everyone outside. And do something about these fumes.”  
  
“At once, my lord.”  
  
Megatron glanced behind him briefly. Starscream was there, just visible through the fog, one clawed hand over his mouth and olfactory unit. He nodded and moved swiftly toward the mine's exit.   
  
About a half a joor later they were all assembled by the river in the ravine below the cave's exit. He'd had Lugnut bring the Professor, who was in fact not dead, and who had begun to come around. Blackarachnia was still coughing up dust into the river, and Blitzwing was running cursory diagnostics on how to de-fumigate the mine complex.  
  
Megatron stood with his hands on his hips. Starscream lingered a little behind him, to his right. He noticed the other 'Cons kept their distance from the jet.   
  
“Blitzwing.”  
  
“Sir.” Blitzwing approached and saluted. He gave Starscream a sidelong glance, then returned his attention to his lord. “Scans indicate the fumes will have a considerable affect on our operational functionality if we continue to absorb them. They should dissipate naturally within two to four orbital cycles, however.”  
  
“Hm.” Megatron folded his arms. “Unacceptable.” He glanced at the drowsy organic who had caused this mess. “The mine will still be here in two orbital cycles. We relocate until then.”  
  
“Where to?” Blackarachnia challenged in between dry-heaves. Megatron gave her a look to silence her.  
  
“There's a smaller cave system in the mountains beyond the city that way,” he said, nodding across town, beyond the grey horizon. “It was one of the possible options for our base before I decided on the tactical advantages of this one. It will do for a temporary solution.” He turned and looked at Starscream. The jet was leaning against a broad tree-trunk, hands on his waist, his attitude relaxed. “Those of us who fly will do so. Blackarachnia, you'll find your way there by other means. Take the Professor with you. Blitzwing, give her the co-ordinates.” The triple-changer nodded. “Lugnut, fetch Starscream's weapons.”  
  
“Lord Megatron-?!”  
  
“Do not argue.”  
  
“Yes sir...” Lugnut re-entered the cave, cowed.  
  
Megatron sensed the questions on the other bots' lips. “I won't have any dead weight,” he said. Lugnut returned, and Megatron re-attached Starscream's sonic pulse cannons himself. Starscream watched him in deferential silence. Once Megatron was satisfied, he stood back.  
  
“Decepticons, rise up.”  
  
He used a private comm channel to speak to Starscream, “ _Stay close to me_.”  
  
“ _Of course, my lord_ ,” the jet replied over the same frequency. He gave a sweetly coy smile and followed as Megatron powered his thrusters and took to the air.   
  
Megatron transformed and his 'Cons followed. They fell into formation, Blackarachnia scuttling away into the forest on the ground below. Starscream flew in Megatron's wake, to his right side. They circled wide over the city, Megatron setting a deliberately long route to help to avoid detection. When they were high enough for clouds to catch on rotors and wings, Megatron started to relax. He eased down to a slower pace, happy the overcast sky would obscure them from prying Autobot optics and wide-range sensors, signal dampener or no. It felt nice to get out in the open air.

  
“Sir-!” Blitzwing's vocals crackling in his comm brought him out of his peaceful coasting. His scanners alerted him to Starscream peeling off from their formation in a graceful roll. Megatron transformed and hovered, buffeted by the rolling currents, and shouted over the wind. Starscream, in his sleek jet form, banked away and performed an intricate tumble in the air before swooping up high in a smooth arc.  
  
“ _Just stretching my wings, my lord_ ,” Starscream said over their private comm. His vocals were slinky, as though he were speaking directly into Megatron's audio. The sunlight glinted brightly off Starscream's wings, and Megatron had to admit it was a pleasure to see his seeker fly.   
  
“Lord Megatron?” Megatron tore his optics away from Starscream, who continued to loop in ever wider circles and more distant figure-eights. Lugnut and Blitzwing had both transformed and were hovering close by. Both looked to him expectantly. Both had their weapons readied.   
  
“Stand down,” he said. He brought up the bracelet's tracking data on his internal display. Starscream was no longer fully visible to his optics – only a distant spec through the cloud cover. The cuff, however, was functioning completely. “We move on. I'll deal with Starscream later.”  
  
It was imperative they reach the temporary base as soon as possible. He had some meagre fuel reserves there, and he was anxious to check whether they were still usable. If Starscream had decided it was time to fly away... well, he could bring him back. Or terminate him. He would be easy to find.   
  
They were almost at the city limits, approaching the mountain cave from a roundabout route, when he became aware they had acquired a tail. Down on the ground, a convoy of vehicles was following. A quick scan revealed their Cybertronian design. Autobots. They must have spotted them out of sheer bind luck, he thought with an inward sneer. Or perhaps infra-red. It didn't matter, he couldn't risk the 'Bots following them to their new base – one information leak and he'd have the Elite Guard down around his audios. He gestured for Blitzwing and Lugnut to descend with him and land on a scrubby patch of wasteland in between boxy warehouses. They transformed, and Megatron powered up his cannon in preparation for battle.   
  
“Take them down quickly,” he instructed. “We don't have time to prolong this little side-trip.”  
  
A moment later and the Autobots rolled into the field. They were led by the little red and blue one he kept seeing – he never could remember his designation.   
  
He fired immediately, but the accursed vermin dodged it. While his cannon warmed up for a second shot, he drew his swords. The Autobot launched himself forward. Megatron swung his blades, while Blitzwing and Lugnut engaged the others.   
  
The little bot was quick, and armed with a rocket-boosted axe and twin grapples. He met Megatron's initial blow with his axe, but he lacked the strength to match Megatron's power, and Megatron felt him backing down. The mech's optics were blue and piercing, determined. Megatron snarled and shoved him back, then swung his other sword for his head.   
  
Megatron spun, blades swinging, his opponent struggling to stay out of the way of each blow, sparks flying each time a sword his the edge of his paltry axe. Megatron was growing frustrated.   
  
A glancing blow from the mech's grapple loosed his grip on one of his swords. Before he could adjust, the mech struck at his hand, and Megatron grunted in pain as the blade cut into his knuckles. He let go of the sword and thrust the point of his remaining weapon toward the Autobot's midsection. The irritating mech leapt backward out of the way and fell into a clumsy roll.   
  
He saw the mech press a finger to his audio comm. “Optimus Prime to Ultra Magnus. Do you come in? We are under attack from Decepticon forces. We need back-up.” Megatron's cannon was ready, and he blasted at the Autobot's head. His opponent rolled to the side and the blow caught and singed his shoulder. “Repeat – ah, we need back-up!”

  
Megatron snarled. Enough was enough. He stalked to the prone Autobot before he could recover and kicked him hard. His slight frame rolled and tumbled, and Megatron had his cannon ready by the time he stilled. One shot with a steady aim should be enough.   
  
His cannon hummed and he felt the power in it swiftly welling. As he fired, however, two golden stars embedded in the barrel with twin spikes of pain. His shot went wide by just a spark-beat, and he roared in frustration. He turned to see his assailant – the tiny black and gold mech. Somehow they had missed that one. Beyond him, though, was a more serious sight. The Elite Guard had arrived.   
  
Or rather, three of them had. Three mechs weren't an army. He sighed and pulled the throwing stars from his cannon and discarded them.   
  
“Lord Megatron, sir, should we still withdraw?”   
  
Megatron considered. The two ninjabots – black and white – were circling around, and a larger mech Megatron recognised as a Prime had a shield and spear and was about to charge. It was Ultra Magnus he was watching, though.   
  
He retrieved his sword, his movements fluid and easy. He tested his grip on both blades. Magnus raised his hammer.   
  
Megatron shifted his stance. “No, we fight,” he ordered. There were too many of them to stand down now – if they ran, the Autobots would follow, and their reserve base would be compromised. “Now-!”  
  
The sky above them darkened. Lightning arced and flared, lighting the scrubland in electric blue. Magnus lifted the hammer above his head. Megatron charged and his soldiers moved with him.   
  
Lightning clustered around the hammer and then, in a deafening crack, hit the ground in white-blue spears – one fork then another, forming a circular barrier around the Decepticons and trapping them in a momentary cage of light and energy. The current bit under Megatron's armour and seared into his systems. He arched in pain and stumbled to one knee. His teeth were gritted and his plating began to smoke. Blitzwing was forced onto all fours. Lugnut remained standing, but he was stunned.   
  
Megatron looked up, fighting down the pain and ignoring the system alerts on his HUD. He was pushing to his feet, he could only have been down for a couple of astroseconds. Ultra Magnus was before him, and he swung the hammer. It connected with Megatron's jaw and threw him back. The current crackled through his system, paralysing, burning. The Autobot scum fell on him – one of the Primes snapped on a set of stasis cuffs.   
  
Megatron was as humiliated as he was shocked. The others were still fighting, but this...  
  
He was pulled onto his knees.

  
“Incoming!” He glanced up at the shouts of confusion and panic. A sparkbeat later his audios rang as three bombs detonated. He saw four Autobots damaged, three in stasis or offline. The small Prime looked up, axe ready. Starscream landed on his shoulders, heavily, and forced him to the floor. Somehow, the seeker kept his balance, and stood elegantly atop the crumpled bot. He fired up his pulse cannons and joined the fray.   
  
“Starscream!” Megatron shouted, earning another hammer blow from Ultra Magnus. His processor shorted, and his optics failed for a moment. When they came back online, Ultra Magnus was on the ground and Starscream stood in his place. He heard the shouts - “Autobots retreat!” They made his spark glow in relief and pride, but with the once-treacherous jet looming over him as though he were a common prisoner his satisfaction was curbed with tension. He met Starscream's optics, and the seeker held his gaze.   
  
In an instant that lasted a lifetime, Megatron thought the time had come. The bond between them seemed to stretch, snap, shatter. And then it was remade in a second, when Starscream spoke.  
  
“Are you damaged, my lord?”  
  
His cannons were smoking. The cuff around his wrist caught the sunlight.   
  
Megatron bared his teeth. “Get me out of these infernal stasis cuffs.”  
  
“Yes sir.” Starscream moved behind him and sank down to one knee. As he fiddled with the cuffs, Megatron scanned the battlefield. The Autobots that were still on their feet were scattering, and his 'Cons seemed happy to let them run. Megatron sneered in controlled disgust. No fighting spirit.  
  
He felt the cuffs' current dissipate the moment Starscream unfastened them. He was on his feet at once, and massaged his wrists to help his fuel circulation. Starscream stood behind him, slowly.  
  
Megatron nodded toward Ultra Magnus. “Finish him off.”  
  
Starscream nodded, aimed his cannon, and fired.  
  
*  
  
“Come here.”  
  
Megatron sat on the edge of the berth. They had made it to the small base without further incident, leaving the remaining Autobots to lick their wounds. Megatron was confident they had not been tracked. Starscream and Megatron were now alone in Megatron's quarters. They were smaller than his rooms in the main HQ, but they were adequate. His swords and cannon rested on a low table by the wall, together with Starscream's guns.   
  
Starscream wiped a smear of energon from his lip and knelt at Megatron's feet. He did so easily, without hesitation, his movements fluid and natural. Megatron noticed the power in his frame, the way he seemed more confident with it now.   
  
He was on one knee, his elbow resting on his drawn up leg. He watched Megatron with an open expression. His wings were singed and there were scuffs and chips in his paint. The odd dot of energon marked his armour. Megatron was sure he'd wanted to hit the wash-racks as soon as they'd made the base, but he had dutifully obeyed Megatron's summons instead. Megatron didn't look in tip-top condition, himself. His joints felt stiff, and his circuits were still half fried from Magnus's hammer. Maybe they'd shower together, later. He wished there was a pool they could use for a nice long soak.

  
They both knew Starscream had saved Megatron's life today. There had been a moment, a naked moment where Starscream had all the power. One shot could have ended it, and Megatron knew he'd been at the seeker's mercy. The old Starscream would have had his spark.   
  
Megatron held Starscream's helm and tilted his face up. “Open your spark-chamber.”  
  
There was a very slight tremor in Starscream's wing-tips. His cockpit slid open.   
  
The chamber within opened, empty as before. Megatron pulled him up onto the berth and let him lie down on his back. He crawled over him and studied the bared chamber. He stroked Starscream's side, using slow, even touches to calm him. He kissed him, and Starscream hesitated a moment before responding. Megatron lifted his head and met the seeker's optics. He stroked Starscream's face and curled around his sleek, battle-marked frame. Starscream nuzzled his cheek, and the old mech kissed him, warm and lingering. His hand slid over the seeker's chest and just rested over the open chamber, claiming and guarding. Starscream rested his helm against Megatron's. Megatron felt one of the jet's hands mirror his own – stroking his chassis and coming to rest above his spark.   
  
Megatron held his seeker and rolled over. Starscream came with him, and rearranged himself so he was comfortably straddling his leader. Megatron pulled him down so that their chests were flush. Starscream swallowed, and Megatron licked the seeker's lips. His spark was hot and swollen, energy reaching out in shining tendrils, licking against the inner walls of his chamber. He kept his chest closed.   
  
He ran his hands from Starscream's wings, down his back, and over his aft. He kneaded his thighs, liking how his large hands could fully encircle the slender limbs.   
  
“Won't you see a medic, my lord?” Starscream murmured.  
  
“They're just a few surface scratches, Starscream.” He slowly brought his hands up the back of Starscream's thighs to rest upon his aft again. His touches were firmer now, kneading and massaging hard. Starscream made a small sound and obligingly opened the cover to his waste port.  
  
“Of course,” Starscream said. His vocals were so quiet, like a caress. Megatron dipped two fingers into Starscream's valve and smiled to find him wet. Starscream arched and rubbed against him. His spike pressed in between them, and Megatron allowed himself to open up too. Starscream's hand found both their spikes and held them together, rubbing slowly. Megatron kissed him.   
  
He removed his fingers from Starscream's valve and moved back to his aft. He'd got a taste for it and wanted to see how much Starscream was willing to give him. A loyal drone would do anything his master wished.   
  
Not that he could question Starscream's loyalty now. Not after the battlefield.   
  
Starscream pressed his face against Megatron's throat and suckled on the thick, curving cables there. His glossa fluttered against Megatron's plating, and Megatron bucked his hips. His knees inside Starscream's thighs, he widened his legs and thus forced the seeker to open wider too. He rubbed at Starscream's aft with his lubricated fingers, and then slowly pushed one digit inside him.  
  
He felt Starscream's sigh, hot against his throat. He pushed in to the third knuckle, waited a beat, and then curled his finger slightly. Starscream held his shoulders and shuddered.   
  
“Starscream...?”  
  
“Yes... Lord Megatron.” Starscream raised his head. His cheeks were prettily flushed and his lips shiny.   
  
He used his free hand to rub circles on the seeker's back, and occasionally give soothing touches to his wings. Starscream began to rock his hips.   
  
Megatron slid his finger out, and then back in. He started an even, unhurried rhythm and felt the seeker relax around him. He kissed him, and bit his lip. Starscream moaned and bit back. Megatron snickered and knew that Starscream wouldn't fight him.

  
He took his time with him. They were secure in a new base, the 'Cons knew not to disturb them, and they had all night. They had all the time in the world.   
  
In time he added a second finger to Starscream's aft. Starscream became more vocal as he was gently stretched. Megatron felt the seeker's valve leaking, and he kissed him harder. His spike was thick and straining between their frames, grinding against Starscream's. He thrust his fingers with strong, careful movements, going faster as the seeker urged him.   
  
“Does my drone want more?” Megatron murmured against Starscream's audio.   
  
A beat's silence, then, “Yes, my lord. Please.”  
  
Megatron nodded. He scissored his fingers, stretching the little hole, and then carefully eased a third finger inside. Starscream gave a shaky moan and trembled against him. Megatron felt the seeker's internals working, tensing, around him, and he pushed his fingers in deep. Starscream gasped. He ducked his head and bit the side of Megatron's neck, then suckled hard. Megatron placed his free hand on the back of Starscream's helm.   
  
“You were a good soldier today,” Megatron said. He started to thrust a little faster. “Made me proud.”  
  
“O-only doing... mm. My duty, my lord.”  
  
“Yes, but so well...” Megatron parted his fingers, to see how far he could stretch his seeker's hole. Starscream whined, and Megatron relented. Another couple of sharp thrusts, and he slid his fingers out. Starscream mewled in want, and Megatron lightly traced his fingertips over the twitching, tender entrance. “You deserve a reward. Sit up.”  
  
“Yes s-sir...” Starscream put his hands on Megatron's chest and pushed himself up. His spike bobbed, sticking up all hard and needy. Megatron held the seeker's hips with both hands, lifted him slightly, and guided him forward so that his own spike could rub against Starscream's aft. Starscream wet his lips, and Megatron took great joy in watching the tremors of his frame. He lowered Starscream – slipping his spike into Starscream's valve. Starscream moaned and shuttered his optics. Megatron controlled his movements for now, but this was just a warm-up. He thrust lazily, and ground the seeker down on his length. Starscream was so wet, and it was that lubricant that he needed. Starscream's helm tipped back, and it looked like he might be about to overload. Megatron considered letting him, but decided against it. He wanted Starscream to come with his spike in his aft.   
  
He lifted him off before the jet could come, and Starscream squirmed and whined petulantly. His claws pricked where he grabbed at Megatron's arms. He quietened, however, when Megatron made the head of his spike nudge against his rear port.   
  
Starscream's cheeks flushed a deeper shade, and his optics found Megatron's. The older mech's spike must feel so fat and broad against that tiny pucker, however carefully Megatron stretched him already.   
  
“Your reward,” Megatron said. He rocked his hips up a tiny distance, felt his spike bump against the port, then push past the resistance and penetrate the rim. Starscream's optics flared bright, and then Megatron lowered his hips again. “Take your weight,” Megatron said. Starscream tensed his thighs, and Megatron let go of his hips. Starscream licked his lips and knelt still. “Fuck yourself for me.”

  
Starscream rested his hands on Megatron's waist and adjusted his balance. Somewhat awkwardly, he shifted so his feet were on the berth and he was squatting over Megatron's lap, his thighs drawn up and spread wide. It was vulgar and ungraceful, but Megatron liked it. Starscream lifted himself up and Megatron held his own spike with one hand, and helped to guide it back to Starscream's aft. Starscream eased himself down. They both hissed as Megatron penetrated him once more, but this time he didn't slip out again the next moment.   
  
Starscream moved slowly, and cycled his intakes deep. Megatron felt the seeker's internals pulsing around him, so fucking tight. He bared his teeth. It took all his control not to ram straight into his slave's aft and ruin him.   
  
Starscream's mouth was open and his glossa out, his intakes ragged pants. His thighs tensed and then relaxed as he let himself sink down a few more inches. Megatron put one hand behind his head and lay back to watch his pet work for him. Starscream's thighs were slippery with leaked lubricant, and his spike remained hard. Starscream's aft seemed to swallow him as inch by inch the seeker eased himself down. Megatron watched his spike disappear inside the tiny, oh-so-stretched hole.  
  
“How does it feel, pet?” Megatron rumbled. He ran one hand over Starscream's thigh, kneading and pinching possessively.   
  
“G-good... Megatron... ah. Big.”   
  
“Yes. Almost there now, take the rest of it.”  
  
“Sir...” Starscream tensed, bit at his lip, and then let his thighs relax and gravity pull him down. He sat, burying Megatron's spike inside him to the hilt. Starscream wailed and tilted his head back, exposing his throat. His spark-chamber was still open. He was the very picture of vulnerability. Megatron thought they were even again, now.  
  
“Too much?” He stroked Starscream's inner thighs with both hands now, now and then pinching his narrow hips. Starscream seemed out of it, but his hips twitched in small movements.   
  
“No...”  
  
“Good. Then move.”

  
Starscream leaned forward again, hands on Megatron's middle. He met his leader's optics and bared his teeth in a snarl that was more desperation than aggression. He started to lift himself. His wings were high and pushed forward. When about half Megatron's length remained inside him, he sank down again. Megatron gasped; that was _good_. He rested his hands on Starscream's ankles as the seeker repeated this motion, and then again, growing surer and steadier each time as he became used to the intense stretch. Megatron moved with him, and watched him. He was glorious to watch like this, back arched and wings flared, fucking himself on his master's shaft. Starscream shuttered his optics and licked his lips. He switched to a deep, circular grinding, and Megatron moaned in appreciation. His spike seemed to grow even harder, and his frame ached for release.   
  
Starscream purred. He went back to an up-and-down motion, daring to go deeper, a little harder, until he was bouncing on Megatron's spike like the whore he was programmed to be.  
  
Megatron tensed and writhed beneath him. He held Starscream's feet and started to buck and thrust, no longer able to leave Starscream to control this alone. He had to have that heat, that wonderful tightness. Starscream was moaning, wanton and hungry, one hand curled around his spike and stroking in time  
  
Megatron forced two fingers into Starscream's valve. The seeker gasped in surprise and then growled. He ground down on both fingers and spike, and a beat later he was coming. Megatron cried out to feel the jet's internals clamp and ripple around him, gripping his spike so hard. Starscream's transfluid spilled generously onto Megatron's abdomen. Megatron watched his pet, his lieutenant, arch and scream in overload.   
  
Once the seeker was spent, Megatron grabbed him. He pulled him down against his frame and wrapped his arms around his back, pinning his arms to his sides. His hips jerked quickly and he hammered his spike into Starscream's stretched hole until he overloaded and filled the seeker's aft with his come.  
  
Some time afterwards, he let Starscream go, but the jet stayed where he was. He curled his limbs around Megatron and nuzzled into his cheek. Megatron didn't pull out. He kissed Starscream and stroked his back.   
  
Before they drifted into recharge, Starscream's hand slipped between them, and once again came to rest over Megatron's hidden spark.


	11. Chapter 11

Starscream had always been a light sleeper. So had Megatron, but in the quiet of the small hours it was Starscream who woke and slowly sat upright. Strips of dark indigo lighting down near to the floor cast a gloomy hue over the darkened room. His chronometer told him they were still in the planet's night cycle. Out of habit the others would be in recharge too, save perhaps one sentry.  
  
He tilted his head to the side to stretch out a kink in his neck. Then he stretched the other side. He rolled his shoulders, and the mechanisms at the base of his wings shifted and straightened.  
  
He scanned the room once, and then looked down at his sleeping master.  
  
Megatron's intakes were even and slow. His attitude was relaxed. Starscream smiled.  
  
He slid his feet off the berth and onto the floor and stood up. He moved with slow, fluid, silent movements. He padded out of the berth-room and into Megatron's office. The small terminal there had a darkened screen, but a light was blinking in the corner. He pressed a key and shut it off. Killed the signal.  
  
In a few orbital cycles Shockwave's silence would be noticed beyond a passing concern. The Elite on Cybertron would already be missing him. It was time to wrap things up.  
  
He took a moment to transmit a burst on the special coded frequency that controlled the tracking cuff's lock mechanism. It only took a second, and he tapped the lock with the very tip of one claw and watched the cuff open and fall onto the desk. He'd seen the blueprints for the trinket right here in this office, before Megatron even put the thing on him. Shockwave had been suspicious, but that didn't matter any more.

  
Back in the main chamber, Starscream stalked the edge of the room. He kept his optics on Megatron.  
  
He reached the low table where their weapons rested. His own pulse cannons looked like toys beside Megatron's massive gun. He ran his fingertips over the length of the fusion cannon, sensing the power within it, the beauty and the brutality. He lingered, but moved on.  
  
Megatron's swords lay beside the guns. The tips of Starscream's claws traced silently along the centre of one of the blades, from haft to tip. He tested the sharpness of the point, and shed a drop of energon from his finger.  
  
The room was silent but for the steady sound of intakes. Nothing existed outside the peaceful chamber.  
  
Starscream grasped the hilt of the sword and lifted it from the table. He held it low and walked back to the berth.  
  
He set it down on the berth next to Megatron, on Starscream's side. Where Starscream should be lying. Very carefully, he straddled the bigger mech. He leaned down and placed both hands on the berth on either side of Megatron's helm.  
  
Megatron stirred. Starscream watched him with softened optics. The cavity in his chest seemed to ache, to feel at once both full and more empty. He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on Megatron's lips.  
  
He kissed him deeper as Megatron began to sleepily respond. He lay his body down atop Megatron's, and let the warmth of his frame bleed into him.  
  
He stroked Megatron's chest with his fingertips and kissed his lips, then his cheeks. He moved slowly, his touches and kisses tender and lingering. In time Megatron's hands rose – they slid up Starscream's back, over the lower edges of his wings, then up over his shoulders to his helm. Starscream purred and kissed him more deeply. Megatron caressed Starscream's helm.  
  
Starscream lifted his head and licked Megatron's lips. Megatron opened his optics. The light from them was hazy scarlet, the look soft. He rubbed his thumb against Starscream's cheek.  
  
“Starscream...”  
  
Starscream silenced him with another kiss. The dark and quiet was profound, the light of Megatron's optics seeming all the brighter. Starscream moved his hips back and ground gently down. Megatron rocked up into him and wrapped his arms around his back. He nuzzled his cheek.  
  
“I missed you.”

  
A shock ran through Starscream's systems, and his optics flared too-bright. Megatron's look was still dazed and sweet, though, and so Starscream relaxed and moved with him. He caressed Megatron's helm, encouraging the sleep-fogged mech.  
  
“Missed me?” he murmured. “I've been here...” He slipped a hand down between their frames. He lingered over Megatron's chest, tracing the crest and then moving lower. He slid his fingers between Megatron's legs and pressed against his panel, the heel of his hand above his spike. “...all along.”  
  
“Mm.” Megatron opened his panel, and Starscream teased his spike out with practised, soft touches. A smile curved his lips, and he opened himself up too. A beat later and Megatron's spike was easing inside him, slow and smooth. Starscream sank down on it and rocked shallowly. It felt so right. He leaned down, cockpit flush against Megatron's chassis, and wrapped his arms around him. He laid his cheek against Megatron's and rested for a moment. Megatron held him and turned his face into him.  
  
“Megatron...”  
  
Megatron placed his hand on the back of Starscream's helm and guided him into a kiss. His other hand pushed against the small of Starscream's back and encouraged him to move. Starscream did so, though he kept to a rhythmic back and forth, meant to lull.  
  
“You're mine now,” Megatron said, his vocals soft, lagged by sleep. He rolled his hips, and Starscream gasped and sighed in real pleasure as his thick spike pushed deep and sweet.  
  
He closed his optics and held on. It would be easy to stay. It would be so easy, easy as the liquid slide of Megatron's spike inside him, easy as the press of his body moulded so perfectly to his own. Easy as a kiss, as the warmth of his master's optics when he looked at him in desire and pride.  
  
Megatron's hands found his thighs and squeezed. Starscream's internals flexed, his valve squeezing Megatron's spike in response. Easy as his approach, as his strategy had been. He'd had his tough moments, but he'd had his triumphs too. He was an artist.  
  
“Yes,” he whispered. “All yours, for the rest of your life.”

  
Megatron lifted Starscream's helm with one strong hand, and their optics met. Starscream swallowed. The heat from Megatron's frame caused a shimmer. Starscream pressed his hand over his spark, and felt it pulse under his touch.  
  
And really, why shouldn't he stay? He would be kept, would be taken care of. He stroked the crest with gentle fingers, and made Megatron arch into him. The old mech looked lost, pained, in bliss. Starscream dipped his head and kissed the brand.  
  
Megatron moaned, his hands all over Starscream. Starscream fanned his wings and rolled his body, rocking, taking care of his master. He wanted this to be good for him. When Megatron came he clutched Starscream to him, so strong and so tightly. Starscream felt a lick of energy against his cockpit, and knew Megatron's chamber was open. He fell into overload with him.  
  
Megatron held him in the aftermath, and Starscream soothed him with slow passes of his hands and kisses to his helm. Recharge was stealing up on Megatron again, and Starscream helped to lull him. His valve throbbed, wet and satisfied, though he was still hungry for more. If he stayed, he could have as much as he wanted. Oh yes, it would be so easy.  
  
But Starscream had never been the quitting kind.  
  
He lay atop Megatron's warm frame until the old mech fell asleep. His spike was still inside him. He watched Megatron's face as he slipped into a peaceful recharge, and he saw the tiny smile upon the old mech's lips. Contentment. He kissed him lightly, chaste and reverent. Then he sat up.  
  
The light from Megatron's spark was blue-white and pure as a supernova. His chest was only open a tiny crack, but he might as well be baring his spark entirely. Starscream felt a surge of pride, and a swell of something that could have been love. Once, it might have been love.  
  
Whatever it was, it didn't matter. He reached for the sword. He lifted the heavy blade and gripped it in both hands, and held the point above Megatron's spark. He breathed in.  
  
Megatron opened his optics. Starscream brought the blade down.


End file.
